Waking Nightmare
by bubbajack
Summary: It wasn't supposed to be for very long. He wasn't supposed to become a Hunter, or anything more. But he did. The Nightmare and the Hunt should've ended, he should have been allowed to find his worth in the Waking World. But all he found upon awakening, was more blood and Beasts. What's a Hunter to do but Hunt...and hope they can cling to their sanity? Hunter!Soul, SoulxHarem.
1. Chapter 1

**The Hunt Never Ends**

 **By: Bubbajack**

 **Beta: Diller, Grammarly, William Wiltrose**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Bloodborne, or Soul Eater. They belong to their respective owners.**

 **Ch.1: The Hunt Continues.**

 _'_ _It was supposed to be a simple trip to visit a long lost relative. How did it come to this?'_ Soul 'Eater' Evans couldn't help but think to himself as he stood in a field of white lilies, over a blood mooned sky, in the background the crackling of fire, coming from a church burning could be heard.

It seemed like an eternity ago since he left Death City, traveling to the hinterlands of Germany upon receiving an elegantly written letter to come to a castle known as Cainhurst. According to the contents of the letter, it lay on the outskirts of an unknown city called Yharnam. It also had mentioned something known as 'Paleblood' at the time, he had no idea what that was. Had he known what terrible horrors and unforgettable truths he would uncover in that city, he never would've let Maka convince him to go in the first place.

For, instead of a sprawling castle overlooking a nice hamlet, he found a city chock to the brim with blood crazed psychopaths, one of which saw fit to knock him out then give him a much unwanted blood transfusion. A transfusion that connected him to the Hunter's Dream, where he now stood. Blood, which unleashed the bestial madness within men, turning the weak willed into Beasts, or in the case of some like his 'Aunt' vampires.

He then began a terrible adventure. One that took him into the depths of the earth, fighting pre-human Pthumerians. Against a clan of witches that had taken the proverb "The eyes are the windows to the soul" too literally, to the dreams of madmen, blood addled Hunters, and ascendant gods. Through it all, he learned, bit by bloody horrifying bit, the Truth. The Truth of Madness. The Eldritch Truth. And with understanding, came a new type of Madness…

Now, he was at the end of the road, and on the ground before him; lay his mentor who was slowly breathing his last breaths. The person he depended on at the beginning of this mess, yet the deeper he delved into the mysteries surrounding Yharnam, the more he understood that this man was more a prisoner than he of this Dream.

The 'He' Soul was referring to was Gehrman, the First Hunter, a white-haired wizened man clad in Victorian-era clothing consisting of a hat, brown coat over a shirt and vest, brown slacks, and a simple loafer on his left foot, his right being replaced with a wooden leg. Gehrman lay on the ground, heaving with exertion, covered in his own blood. Getting on his knees, Soul took the old man's hand, so as to hear his last words.

"You, have done well, boy." He gave the albino's hand a weak squeeze before he continued, "But there is one last challenge…to win, you must…you must see. Look beyond the Moon…The Night and the Dream…were long."

With those last words, Gehrman, the First Hunter was finally put to rest. Standing, shaking the blood off of his cloak, he reached within his pockets and pulled out a long, thin, organic cord. All along its length it was covered in bloodshot eyeballs. Without a moments pause, he devoured the Three-Thirds of Umbilical Cord, suppressing a groan as the sudden headache action brought on, he then glared ready and defiant, at the Blood-Moon.

The tentacle headed, faceless, skeletal creature that appeared from the sky could be nothing less than a Great One. This…Moon Presence, would fall just like Amygdala, Ebritas, and Mergo's Wet-Nurse. Picking up the blade of his fallen master, while placing the haft on his back, Evans fired a single shot from Evelyn, to act as both warning and challenge to the creature. The Great One him like a savage animal his warning going unheeded…his challenge accepted. After fighting the likes of Father Gascoigne, Henryk, Lady Maria, Gehrman, and even the source of the Hunter's Nightmare, the Orphan of Kos, all of which were truly skilled opponents, this Great One was weak by comparison.

It thrashed around like a mindless Beast, galloping on all fours and swiping at him with clawed hands, while occasionally letting out a rain of blood, which he wisely avoided, or bellowed out a shriek akin to a Cleric Beast that could likely shatter glass. After all the blood and terror he'd gone through to get to this point, he was none too impressed to find that **_this_** creature was the one pulling his strings.

Soul easily weaved through its rain of Paleblood, before slashing at it with his fallen master's blade, the flesh tore easily from its hindquarters letting silver droplets of its own lifeblood nourish the flowers beneath it. He was so intent on making the source of all the misery he had witnessed, some of which he had caused either knowingly or unknowingly, that he didn't even care when the Moon Presence slapped him away, making his body ragdoll across the ground. Spitting out a glob of silvery blood, the albino picked himself up and with a battle cry rushed back into the fray. The Old One lunged at him as well intent to crush the life, and the blood echoes out of him.

But Soul was waiting for it to do this. With a smirk plastered on his face, he raised Evelyn and fired, stunning the creature for just a moment. A moment was all he needed however for he bum rushed the Great One, tossing the blade aside and burying his fist deep into its skull reaching for its grey matter. Unable to force his arm fully through the Eldritch Beings' flesh, he tore his arm out, causing a massive spay of silver blood and hurling the Moon Presence backwards.

Not wasting the opportunity, Soul leapt atop the Great One, snapping the blade to the haft of the weapon as he did so, turning the Trick Weapon into a scythe, a weapon he was oh so familiar with. Raising the Burial Blade above his head, the albino Hunter prepared to deliver a killing stroke, only to be thrown back, pierced in the chest by a mass of tentacles, even as he gored the abominable creature in the head, losing his grip on the blade in the process.

 _'_ _I got arrogant. And it might've just cost me my life. Not cool.'_ Soul thought to himself as he reached within the folds of his duster before injecting himself with the final three remaining Blood Vials he had from his previous fight with Gehrman.

He managed to push himself to his feet just in time to see a red light flash from within the hollow hole that counted as the Moon Presence's face. Then, he felt it. His strength, no more than that, his very will to fight, to live, was being drained from him. Suddenly the idea of laying on the ground felt very inviting as his limbs felt leaded and heavy. His breathing labored, his eyes blurry, his mind fuzzy…

In his mind's eye, flashed a trio of faces. An intellectual looking girl with dirty-blonde hair and pale-green eyes.

A dark-haired girl, her hair also in pigtails hanging out in strands, which were in sharp contrast to her indigo colored eyes.

Next came a short-haired blonde, sky-blue eyes filled with childlike curiosity, a cowboy hat on her head.

A violet-haired witch with amber catlike eyes appeared in his mind's eye next smirking seductively.

Then

Lastly was **_her_** face. One that he would always remember even if he slipped into the deepest throes of mania. Tall, voluptuous, and clad in a pale-yellow Qipao her jet-black hair trailing behind her tied in a ponytail. Ever kind, ever caring, ever willing to lend an ear and listen to his woes.

Souls' eyes snapped open and his body went ridged as he thought of how close he came to losing them all. Forever. His eyes narrowing at the Moon Presence, which still had Gehrman's blade embedded in its skull, the albino came to a decision.

 _'_ _Time to end this.'_ He thought. He had wanted to end this with Gehrman's weapon, as a sign of respect to the First Hunter. Yet he realized there was a difference between **_being_** a scythe used by another and **_using_** a scythe himself. If he had a week, he felt he could master the weapon himself. But Soul didn't have a week, just a scant few seconds until the Great One recovered and finished him off. And so, he drew his favored weapons, the Kris-curved Bowblade of Simon and Evelyn. Loading the firearm with Bone Marrow Ash, he also loaded a couple of quicksilver bullets into the Tiny Tonitrus, and charged. Knowing only one of them would be leaving this Dream, this Nightmare, alive.

He fired Evelyn grinning in savage fury as the bone ash and blood infused bullet struck home, stunning the bestial Great One, granting him hope, and a second wind. He knew he couldn't let up however and continued his relentless assault. Jumping forwards, he stabbed the Hunter Tool into the ground unleashing an arc of lightning that charred the Eldritch Being's hide and it let out a piteous moan akin to that of whale song. He felt no pity for this creature however, for it more than any other of its kind was the source of he Hunts. The Hunts that caused the death of so many… Gascoigne, Henryk, Viola and her children, Vicar Amelia, Ludwig, Maria, and who knows how many others. His thoughts filled with the faces of the dead, Soul morphed the blade into its Greatbow form, extending the hidden second blade downwards which automatically strung the weapon. Firing of shots made solely of congealed blood and infused with moonlight, he dashed towards the Great One.

The blood bullets impacted with the force of sniper rounds against the Great One's chitins hide. Once he was close enough, he used the ancient Hunter Art of Quickening to dash behind the Beast, his Bowblade now closed and covered viscera. Seconds later, the now headless body of the Moon Presence, scissored off by the Hunter's transformation attack, collapsed into the earth, all the while reaching for him desperately. As he watched the Great One's body begin to dissolve into so much mist, Soul began to laugh.

"I did it! It's over, this Hunt, this Nightmare, it's finally, finally over…so cool." He sighed to himself in relief.

Then, he felt it. It started at the base of his neck, the pain. But it grew rapidly, from a slight discomfort, to a migraine, to whiplash to feeling as if his skull was about to physically burst open. Soul began screaming, begging for the torment to cease. He could feel his Soul Wavelength fluctuating out of his control, and growing more and more powerful more potent by then second. It was too much, it was just too much for a mere human body to contain…So he stopped trying…

His let his Soul Wavelength burst out of him like an explosion. After it was all over he felt different, changed. Everything around him felt sharper, in higher focus. He could now see strange colors he had no name for, he could see the sound of the Doll approaching from behind him each flower giving off a small pealing note. Smell now had color, hearing shape. Yet, despite all this new sensory information, one thing he found he couldn't do, was move.

He felt and saw the Doll wrap her arms around him before bringing him up to her eye level. Now, looking at her face, he could tell how truly exquisite her craftsmanship was. Her hair shined like gossamer strands in the moonlight, her eyes, a beautiful aquamarine, looked at him with motherly concern. This concern was voiced when she asked "Are you cold, Dear Hunter?"

 _'_ _Cold, no not really. I would like to know why I can't move though.'_ He thought to himself.

Much to his surprise, the Doll answered him, "Dear Hunter, you have Transcended the Hunt and found Paleblood. You have become an infant Great One. That is why you cannot walk."

 _'_ _I'm a Great One?'_ Soul thought with fear evident in his tone.

Smiling, the Doll nodded replying, "Indeed Good Hunter. If what I have gleaned while channeling your acquired Blood Echoes is correct, this was the goal of both those at Byrgenwerth, The Church, and even your own kin at Cainhurst was it not? You have succeeded where they all failed…Is that, not a good thing?" she queried, confused by his fear.

 _'_ _I-I never sought to ascend to a Great One, Doll. I just wanted to stop the Hunt, and the mad experiments' of the Church and Byrgenwerth once I found out what they were doing…what they had done, in the name of_ _ **'science'**_ _.'_ He said in distaste, Soul's thoughts drifting ever so briefly to Medusa, and the Snake Witches own experimentation with Black Blood, which led to his infection and the rise of Little Ogre in his Soul. Thankfully ever since his transfusion he seen hide nor hair of the foul little cretin. Soul was hopeful that it meant he had gone the way of the dodo.

His memories turned from sour to sweet as he recalled his friends back at DWMA. Maka, Black Star, Liz, Patty, Kidd, Kim, Lord…Death…

With a start, he realized, his Hunt was not over. If his estimation was correct, there were at **_least_** five more Great Ones that needed to be hunted down. Possibly more if Death Weapons could be counted as Kin…

 _'_ _Woah, hold on a minute there Evans, you're talking about killing Shinigami-sama, your friend's dad…_ _ **possibly his son too if he is a threat**_ _…The hell was that? That thought, it wasn't mine, was it?'_

He thought about all he knew about the Great Ones. Though they were a race, each individual one appeared to be unique physically. In essence, each Great One could be considered the Progenitor of its own species. Animals he knew from watching Discovery Planet with Maka, would fight each other over resources in a given area, to assure their kind not only survived but thrived. However, due to each Great One being its own singular unique entity, procreation was a nigh impossible process. Even a slim chance of begetting an heir required mating with humans, most of whom lacked the ability to bear the infant Great One to term…except, for those of certain bloodlines.

It gave him an idea but that was something to ponder another time. For now, he had more immediate concerns, like walking for example.

 _'_ _Evetta.'_ He addressed the Doll by the name he gave her, prompting her to focus her gaze on him. _'Is there some way I can regain human form?'_

"I can only speculate Good Hunter, but if you are now a Great One, and as such just like others of your kind, would you also be able to shape the world around you according to your thoughts? Including how you look?" Evetta inquired.

 _'_ _Good idea lemme give it a shot.'_ He replied. He focused on himself how he looked before…or at least, how he envisioned he looked. Mist surrounded his form and when it cleared Soul felt… human again for lack of a better term.

 _'_ _Mirror, I need a mirror.'_ He thought wanting to take in his appearance. The Dream's denizens reacted to their new Lord's whims. From a pool of Paleblood a full length mirror was hoisted out of the ground by the Messengers. These voiceless, yet disturbing looking infantile creatures smiled at him as they held up the mirror, giving their signature hollow laugh.

Instead of taking in his appearance in the mirror, he turned a suspicious gaze back and forth from the Doll to the 'little ones' as she called them. For he remembered walking the Nightmare of Mensis and the most horrifying creatures therein. It was not Amygdala that filled him with fear, for Rom had already fallen by his hand by that point. No, it was the Winter Lanterns, twisted fused perversions of both the Messengers and the Doll, a mass of childlike corpses and eyes, carrying the same lamp that brought him back and forth to his one sanctuary…The Hunter's Dream.

He had already been slightly suspicious of the Doll seeing as it cried tears of white blood. Something that is 'just a doll' like she claimed wouldn't be able to do that. No matter what it may have felt.

Stepping away from the mirror, and calmly putting his hand on the hilt of his Chikage, Soul asked, "Doll…What are you, what are you really? And don't say just a doll because if that was the case, you wouldn't be able to cry. And unless I'm wrong after killing both Gehrman and the Moon Presence, the Hunter's Dream should've collapsed with neither Gehrman's memories to give it shape and the power of the Moon Presence to make it corporeal. Also, when I found the Old Hunter's Workshop, I didn't find Gehrman's corpse anywhere acting as an anchor to the Dream in the physical world…but I did find yours."

Clapping her hands, the Doll replied happily, "You have become oh so very wise my Dear Hunter. You are correct, Gehrman was not the Host of the Dream, I am. Allow me to explain. It was after the burning of Old Yharnam by the Powder Kegs that the time of Hunters working in the shadows was over. The Healing Church had decided to take a more direct hand in dealing with the Beastly Scourge. This meant Gehrman and his secret, hidden Workshop was no longer needed. Due to his perceived betrayal by Lady Maria, he began constructing the Doll not wishing to be alone. He took such good care of her over the years, that the Doll wished to fulfill Gehrman's desire, though it was inanimate and could not move nor voice this heartfelt wish."

The Doll paused for a moment, giving her Dear Hunter a moment to digest all she said, before she continued, "I heard her plea, and as it would also benefit myself, I offered to create this Hunter's Dream as a refuge for both the Doll and Gehrman."

"And? You said you benefited too. What did you get in return?" Soul asked the Doll.

Bowing slightly, the Doll replied, "A physical form."

Then, it all clicked into place for the Cainhurst albino. Seeing the look of surprise on his face the Doll covered her face, to mask her giggling before she said, "You seem to have figured it out my Dear Hunter. Tell me, who am I?"

"Oedon. Your Formless Oedon."

Again the Doll clapped happily, clearly pleased by his deduction, "Yes indeed my Dear Hunter."

This raised a while slew of questions however, "Ok, if that's the case, and you're the one who created the Hunter's Dream, then what does the Moon Presence have to do with all this? Why the Hunts? What are the Messengers and why…just why?"

The newborn Great One was stunned silent by Odeon's reply, "She was mine and Gehrman's child. Born here, in the Hunter's Dream. Gehrman upon seeing what he gave rise to, rejected both her and myself. Luna wanting to gain her father's approval, collected the Bastards of Loran, the Messengers as you know them, and had them look for those who could resist the call of the Beast Within, and made them Hunters. Those that would seek to stop the Scourge of Beasts. This is what she thought he father wanted, purpose."

Yet the Doll, Oedon, shook her head and replied, "T'was not so. Gehrman came to see the Dream, and the constant Hunts he had to oversee, as a cruel Curse. He did not wish the life of a Hunter upon anyone else, especially the unwilling. So should a Hunter fall to the lure of Blood or wish to cease the Hunt, Gehrman would oblige them. Ending their life here in the Dream, and allowing them to live again, to find their worth in the Waking World."

"Curse the Fiends and all their children, and their children too. Curse them all, and curse them forever true." He said, quoting a voice he heard upon being taken into the Hunter's Nightmare by an Amygdala.

Though he whispered this, it carried upon the air, and the Doll nodded, confirming his suspicions. "Indeed, for it was there in the Fishing Hamlet of Innsmuth, that the Curse of Blood started. For, we are sympathetic to humans. And Byrgenwerth, upon discovering them and their contact with the Great One Kos, tortured and killed them all. Drilling open their skulls in search of eyes. It was this act that brought about the Wrath of Kos, the Curse of Blood, The Plague of Beasts. I believe Gehrman, being that he was the First Hunter, was reminded of this savagery he no doubt took part in every time he was forced to send another Hunter out on the Night of the Hunt."

Soul's mood soured at the thought of Gehrman being a part of the Fishing Hamlet Massacre. In truth, he should've seen it coming, Gehrman being the **_very_** First Hunter, it was likely he was indeed part of the group of Byrgenwerth scholars who cursed all that came after them. He felt only slightly less sorry for the man then. Did he do something horrendous? Yes. Does that mean he has to see that same mistake repeated over and over again for how many centuries'? No, he may have lost his respect for Gehrman but he was glad he could put the man to rest.

His thoughts returned once again to the Doll. She was Odeon herself, he had just killed the closest thing she had to both a husband and a daughter, and yet… "You don't hate me? I killed your husband and daughter, and you don't despise me with all your being?" he said unconvinced.

"Oh Dear Hunter, when Gehrman abandoned her, Dearest Luna abandoned me in turn. All but forgetting about me in her own Hunt for her Father's approval. I lost my Child years ago."

Soul felt saddened for the Great One, only for his mind to blank when he heard her say cheerily, "But now, everything is better! You have finally come! A Hunter with both the strength and courage to evolve into a newborn Great One, one with the courage to end poor Gehrman, and the strength to oppose Luna."

"Surrogate." Soul muttered to himself.

"Hmm?" the Doll said, catching his muttering once again.

Resisting the urge to smack himself, Soul replied, "From what I've come to understand by consuming the Cord of the Eye, each Great One has trouble conceiving a child and thus, longs for a surrogate. Though in the case of the Moon Presence-uh, Luna it was different. It didn't want a child, it wanted its father's approval. Which leaves us, the Hunters. We, I, am your surrogate child."

"Yes, and? Is that so wrong? Look me in the eye Dear Hunter and tell me that my desire for a child is wrong." The Doll, Oedon all but demanded of him.

He locked his crimson eyes with her silver one's intending to do just that, only to stop when he saw the unshed tears of quicksilver gathered around her eyes. His thoughts then turned back to his struggle through Yharnam, and how the Doll was always willing to aid him. Either with by channeling his blood echoes, or doing something as simple as offering him a warm smile and a kind word upon his return to the Dream after a time of Hunting.

 _'_ _If I did this now, I would be breaking a woman's heart. And that, right up there with betrayal is definitely_ _ **not**_ _cool.'_ And so sighing he told her, "Fine, I won't say that. But I will say that you shouldn't expect me to call you mom or anything like that. It's just not cool."

Once again, the Doll raised a hand in front of her mouth in a failed attempt to silence her giggling fit. Upon seeing the dour look she was being given, the Great One managed to calm herself enough to say, "I am sorry my Dearest Hunter, I just find it so adorable when you act like that."

"Glad I amuse you." He said sourly before he stepped up to the mirror and finally gave himself a once over.

Soul was very much surprised to find he looked much like Wes did when he last saw him. His hair was now longer, coming down over his eyes, and extending just below his neck in the back. He was also lankier, having filled out and become less stocky then previously. He felt like a whip or a snake, all corded muscle ready to strike. He was still clad in his preferred Hunter's uniform, the Cainhurst styled uniform of Maria minus her hat which he replaced with the Beast-fur trimmed hat of Djura.

Satisfied with his look, he began making his way out of the lumenflower field, toward the headstones. Specifically, the one that would take him to his oh so distant relative's throne room.

Teleporting in from the Dream always felt odd to Soul, even now with his ascension to Great One status. When transitioning from one place to another, there was a sense of weightlessness, and he felt his stomach drop out from under him as if he were riding an elevator, and then, all at once it came back. Gravity as well as his stomach which always made him feel slightly nauseous. Taking a moment to let his stomach settle, he found himself once more in Annalise's throne room. Giant statues, all half shrouded in shadows due to the sparse candles spread throughout the throne room greeted him. He took a moment to admire the décor something he sadly couldn't do very often in Yharnam due to constantly being on high alert for both blood-crazed villagers, Mad Hunters, and Beasts. Finally taking his fill of the statues, he approached the ring of candles and bowed respectfully to his several times great-aunt.

Upon seeing him she spoke, "Ah, Henaid, you return to us. We worried for your safety nephew."

Sighing, Soul said, "Annalise, we've been over this. Please don't call me that."

"Why doth thou hate thine name, tis your proper name tis it not?" the Queen queried.

Taking a standing position yet staying within the circle of candles, the white-haired hunter replied "My name is Soul **_not_** Henaid."

The masked queen replied pointedly, "Thine last name is of Welsh origin. Thus, thine's first name should also be such. Also, thine is the last of the Vilebloods' along with mine self, and a proper name one befitting royalty is needed."

For the second time in what felt like a very short while, Soul felt himself surrendering to the whims of a woman. "Fine, call me what you want. I didn't come here to argue with you about my name anyway."

"Verily, what brings thine into our presence today?" Annalise asked.

His smirk hidden under the shadow of his tricorn cap, he replied, "I have become a Child of Blood."

The Vileblood Queen stat ramrod straight staring at him in silence for a moment before she asked in a tone that seemed to physically ache to know, "How?"

"By doing what a Hunter does best, hunting. I kept hunting until there was nothing left to Hunt. Beasts, the Blood-crazed, even the Great Ones fell to me."

"And so, soaked in blood you ascended." Annalise finished, before slumping in her throne, seemingly defeated.

She jerked slightly when she felt her nephew's hand land upon hers. Looking up and through the slits of her accursed helm she saw him smiling kindly at her, his crimson eyes were full of warmth, and understanding.

"C'mon, let's get outta here. Whatdaya say?"

Soul could feel his distant relative's surprise even with the mask on. "Leave Castle Cainhurst? Our home?"

"Your prison." Soul corrected before he said gently "There is nothing left for you here Annalise. I slew the cause of the Blood Moon, and thus, your chance of being chosen to bear a Child of Blood."

Annalise Queen of the Vileblood's sighed before musing aloud, "I should be cross at you for that. Yet, we cannot find it within ourselves to be so. Such is our melancholy."

"Maybe this will cheer you up." Soul then bit his thumb and ran his now pale silver blood down the side of Annalise's helm. Nothing happened that the Queen could tell. But then, she noticed a peculiar scent. The scent of a Hunter, but it was much more pungent. Feeling a weight lift from her shoulders, Annalise looked down noticing several pale white flower petals in her lap. To her left, she could feel Henaid dusting more of the petals from her hair.

 _'_ _Wait.'_ The queen felt around for her mask. An item that had been just as much a cage as being sealed in her throne room by that Church fanatic Logarius years prior. Much to her astonishment, she found that the accursed thing was gone.

"How?" she mouthed.

Smirking a bit, Soul replied cockily, "I decided to see if I like other Great Ones could affect the world around them by existing. I can affect reality to my will."

Soul then focused on a faraway statue, attempting to turn it into something else, only for nothing to happen, "Lame, it looks like I need to be in direct contact with what I want to effect."

Looking back towards his distant ancestor he beheld her face for the first time. She, like himself possessed pale skin but hers was pallid and corpselike. Her face was aristocratic with high sharp cheek bones, blood red pale lips, and black eyes that seemed to twinkle as if they held the light of the cosmos themselves.

Chuckling slightly he said, "There, now I can see the family resemblance. So, you ready to get outta here?"

A smile gracing her face for the first time in many moons, the Vileblood matriarch replied to her fellow kinsman "Verily."

Offering his 'Aunt' his arm he said "Right this way then."

 **(…)**

The last remaining Vilebloods soon found themselves within the Hunter's Dream. Annalise marveled at the Church, the overcast sky and the full blood red moon in the sky. While she did that, Soul made his way into the Workshop he made his way around back to the Bath Messengers. As he suspected, they held Gehrman's attire. By offering them a little bit of his now momentous amount of insight, he was able to gain the attire of his mentor. He carried the folded garments with reverence to the Great Tree, and hidden under it boughs, changed into the attire of the First Hunter attaching the mans fanglike badge to the makeshift necklace he had around his neck which held all the other Hunter's badges he had gained in his adventure in Yharnam. He may not have agreed with all Gehrman may have done, but he did guide him, in his own way. And thus, the albino decided to honor the man's long vigil in the Dream by wearing his apparel henceforth.

He was greeted by the sight of both Annalise and his newly adopted 'mother' chatting amicably, sitting in the alcove where he first noticed the Doll. The two greeted him with a wave as he approached, and the Doll, _'I really should just think of her as Oedon I suppose.'_ Soul thought to himself, was the first to comment on his change in apparel.

She said, with neither approval nor distaste in her tone, merely a statement of fact. "Dearest Hunter, you have clothed yourself in the vestments of Gehrman."

"Yeah, he's been looking over this place, these Hunts for who knows how long. I figured he deserved to be honored somehow, regardless of what he did in the past. Anything less on my part just wouldn't be cool." Soul told her with a shrug. "So what were you two talking about before I showed up?"

"You Dearest Hunter." The Doll began only for Annalise to finish, "Or more specifically you're rather complicated love life."

This statement caused the Hunter to frown and send a half-hearted glare the two women's way before he stuck his hands in the pockets of his old mentor's slacks and, marched hunched into the Workshop, muttering as he past, "It's none of your business."

Grasping his arm as he went past, the Vileblood Queen said, "Oh come now Nephew. Tis no reason to be so fraught with rage. Thine's interest in the women of the East is perfectly natural. For we of Cainhurst have had an infatuation with those lands and there people since days gone by." Annalise reminded him as she locked midnight black eyes with his crimson red ones.

Shaking his head and sighing the Newborn Great One replied, "It doesn't matter anyway. It's probably better if I just either stay a bachelor my entire life or better yet, become a hermit someplace far away from people."

Annalise didn't know what possessed him to think such things. She was about to question him on his thoughts when he quite easily pulled his arm out of her grasp and headed silently into the Workshop. Going over to the large coffin where all of his access things were stored within the Dream, Soul silently drew out several Hunter Weapons, a couple of them duplicates he'd found in the Chalice Dungeons. Taking them over to the workbench he began working them over, fortifying them with bits solidified blood he had scavenged from around Yharnam as well as the Tombs of the Gods. He paid extra special care to make sure each weapon was fortified as well as could be.

He had no idea how much time had passed since he began his work, as, here in the Hunter's Dream, time was meaningless, as was the need for essential things like food, water, or sleep. Once his task was done, he made his way back out of the Workshop, to find both Oedon and Annalise silently waiting for him.

Before either of them could speak, he held up a hand and said, "Just forget about it, ok? Let's just…let's just get outta here."

The women gave their silent ascent, before standing and walking over to the Hunter who seemed to be staring at the gravestones in thought.

"Hmm, how to get to Death City from the Dream?" he pondered aloud. He was vexed for a moment before he had an idea. Drawing one of the non-poisoned throwing knives he kept on his person, he sliced his palm, allowing his Paleblood to drip onto the ground in the shape of a rather large Hunter's Mark. Looking the rune over to make sure it was correctly shaped, he beckoned the two women forwards to join him on the glyph. Soul then thought of Death City, specifically the apartment building that he Maka rented.

Oh so slowly he felt his physical form fade, his last conscious thought was _'I wonder how Maka and the others have been doing well since I left.'_

 **(…)**

 _'_ _This is all that punks fault. If he hadn't left, Maka-chan would be fine.'_ Spirit Albarn thought to himself as he walked down the guillotined hall that lead to Shinigami-sama.

Passing through the last archway, he arrived for the meeting, last as usual. Some of his fellow Death Weapons were giving him disapproving looks, while others shot him looks of sympathy. Standing in from of the Death God, he said in an unapologetic toneless voice, "Sorry I'm late sir."

Shinigami-sama merely waved off his apology, saying "Think nothing of it Spirit-kun…how is Maka-chan doing, any better?" he asked concernedly.

The Death Weapon merely shook his head to the side and grunted, "No, no change."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Hopefully she'll recover soon….Anyway, onto the reason for today's meeting. As you know there has been an increase of Madness all over the world lately from as of yet unknown circumstances. According to Dr. Stein, this Madness is unlike any we've ever encountered before."

Taking that as his queue, Stein stepped forwards, turning the crank in his head as he did so, before saying, "Correct Shinigami-sama, this Madness has no identifiable cause. It clearly isn't coming from the Kishin as he is still locked below in the Alter of Madness. What we do know however is that this particular Madness seems to give rise to Werewolves of the Immortal Clan."

Clearing his throat and fixing his spectacles Stein continued, "From what I've read in reports, the increase in Werewolf sighting has increased six-hundred percent around the world, with the highest density being found somewhere in Europe. As you all know, those of the immortal Clan are notoriously hard to kill. It was only due to the Eight Warlords banning together that the threat the Immortal Clan represented became a distant memory. However, due to the increasingly frequent encounters with these creatures over the past two years, all Students of the DWMA have been recalled, and have not been allowed outside of Death City for the past year. This has in turn lead to an increase in Afreet, and Witch activity."

"We know all this already Stein, get to the point, will you?" she groused.

Both Death Weapon and Meister glared at one another from over the rims of their respective glasses for a moment, lightning sparking in their gazes, before Stein merely sighed and said, "My point is Azusa, that due to the information that has been provided, I these new Werewolves are a different breed entirely."

"What makes you say that Stein?" Spirit, Steins old partner questioned.

"From what I've been told, all of your attacks on these creatures were ineffective, correct?" the Mad Scientist asked.

Nodding the Gunbow retorted, "Yes but as you yourself just claimed, harming one of the Immortal Clan is difficult."

Shaking his head, Stein retorted, "No, I said they were hard to **_kill_** there is a difference. According to reports from the Dark Times verified by Shinigami-sama himself, those of the Immortal Clan could be wounded, but they healed incredibly quickly. Whereas these new Werewolves by contrast, do not even seem to be affected by Soul Wavelengths. Aside from Madness that is."

A long and heavy silence descended on those present. Eventually, it was broken by Marie Mjolnir who voiced what everyone else was thinking, "If they are not of the Immortal Clan, then what are they Stein?"

The mad scientist pushed his glasses up, causing them to flash before he replied, "I don't know. I honestly don't know."

That chilled the Hammer Death Weapon to the bone. For the analytical Stein to not have the answer to such a quandary troubled her greatly. She was reassured after he took a drag off his newly-lit cigarette and said, "But I'm sure with time and some firsthand study, I can figure it out."

"Shinigami-sama!" Azusa said sharply and out of the blue, "Three people have just entered Death City via magic."

"Yes, I feel them." He told the group. _'One is very strong. The other two as well feel off…'_

Sir, should we intercept them?" Sid Barret asked his skin the color of a corpse due to zombification, a bandana covering the hole in his head inflicted by Shalaua Gorgon.

 _'_ _That powerful Soul Wavelength, it feels so familiar. It is, could it possibly be?!'_ he thought.

"Sir?" Sid asked attempting to get an answer to his question.

Shaking himself out of his daze, the Death God replied, "No, there's no need. They'll come to us."

Several of the Death Weapons felt like protesting, yet held their tongues. For if Shinigami-sama wasn't worried, why should they?

 **(…)**

Soul felt himself solidify along with Annalise and the Doll. Looking around, he was happy to see he had arrived exactly where he'd intended, and the sun was just beginning to set. He stood right outside of his and Maka's apartment, yet he noticed immediately that something was wrong, as there was no warm inviting light coming from Maka's window, and for her to be out this late was unusual. He then noticed that the glass window that was his room had been boarded up, slash marks coved the wall, and cracks as well as holes were all over the street making him think some kind of battle had taken place. Deciding to get to the bottom of this, he headed into the lobby of the apartment. Seeing Edgar, the slightly portly man in his late fifties with his bulbous nose and greying hair who ran the place wasn't present, Soul rang the service bell.

He waited a moment before dinging it again. He was about to do so a third time when he heard Edgars hoarse voice call out from the back, "Hang on a mo' and I'll be right wit'cha."

Soul silently waited then and a few seconds later Edgar arrived out of the backroom in which he slept. His hair looked greyer, and had gone white on the sides, and he seemed to have gained a bit more weight, as well as a few more worry lines on his brow, and his dark grey eyes seemed almost forced shut by the wrinkles his brow had accumulated since the Hunter had seen him last.

"Now, whut can Ah do for ya-"Edgar's sentence died in his throat as he saw who stood at his front desk, his brow forced up through sheer surprise he managed to get out. "Yung Maser Soul, is that you sir?"

In response, Soul took off his hat, and nodded respectfully to the elderly apartment renter. "It's been awhile Ed, how ya been?"

A smile lit the old man's face as he replied, "Well bless my soul, It is you! We all took you fer dead, especially Mrs. Albarn. Where you been these last three years lad?"

Seeing the look of shock cross the boy's face, the landlord asked "Yung Maser, is every'thin well?"

In response, Soul uttered out, "D-Did you just say three years Ed."

The apartment manager nodded, "Aye, that I did…Yung Maser did you truly have no idea you been gone all this time?" he asked fretfully.

Soul nodded, thinking _'Three years…I've been gone three years. It…it felt like a single night. What's happened since I've been gone? Has Maka found a new Demon Weapon to partner with, has Black Star ascended Tsubaki to a Death Weapon, did anyone find out Kim is a Witch?'_ These and many more questions raced around the albino Great One's skull just begging to be answered.

Seeing the young man in distress, Edgar came from around the desk and pulled a comfortable armchair from the fireplace and eased the young man into it. He then hustled into the back room and came back out with a steaming cup of green tea soon after. Presenting it to the albino, he said, "Here, sip at this. It'll calm yer nerves."

Edgar was right, sipping at the tea did calm his nerves. After he'd settled some, the proprietor posed a question, "Where you been all this time Yung Maser?"

Soul was silent for a moment before he finally said, "I've been slogging my way through a horrible Nightmare. One full of blood and fangs, victory and loss, but mostly loss. Only two companions and I were able to make it out alive"

The elder of the two men nodded sagely, "That bad eh?"

The haunted look in the boys' crimson eyes said it all. Clapping him on the shoulder, the landlord said, "You can rest easy now lad, yer back amongst the livin'. But I suppose you'd like to know what's happened in yer absence, yeah?"

Seeing him nod, the man replied, "Just a tick then."

Edgar then moseyed over to the entrance where he found both Annalise and the Doll standing just outside his door. He beckoned them inside saying, C'min, C'min. warm yer'selves by the fire. Have a cuppa tea. No point in standin' out there in the loomin' dark and cold. Es'pecially now a'days."

In short order the two women were served tea and shortbread cookies. Once all were situated, the man began to speak, "Now, you be wonderin' wot happened since ya left. Les's see here…Well, the most important thin' I can think of is the re-emergence of the Immortal Clan, about oh, six months after yew left Yung Maser."

"The Immortal Clan?" the albino queried.

Nodding vigorously, Edgar continued, "Aye, Nigh-unkillable werewolves from the way I heard tell of it. According to rumor, they heal so quick their impossible to put down by all but the strongest Meister and Lord Death himself."

This news troubled the young Great One, for these creatures sounded oh too similar to those who had succumbed to the Beastly Scourge back in Yharnam. He felt his heart drop into his stomach with Edgar's next sentence.

"Also the moon dun changed. It's full and red as blood every night now. Strange Ah tell ya, strange."

Rushing from his seat, Soul looked to the west, where a full moon, red like the maddened eye of a Beast was slowly rising over the horizon.

The Bloodmoon.

 _'_ _It can't be, I stopped it. I stopped the Ritual of Mensis.'_ Soul thought to himself.

"Yung Maser, is every'thin al'right?"

"Edgar, please show Annalise and…Mrs. Evetta to a three bedroom apartment. Help them get situated and I'll be back soon." The boy replied his tone sharp as steel and cold as arctic ice as he put several coins, solid gold if the landlord wasn't mistaken, on the front desk. He then donned his hat and pulling his black scarf up over his nose before heading out into the twilight.

 _'_ _It's a shame he didn't stay.'_ The older man thought, _'I was about to tell him about Mrs. Albarn.'_

 **(…)**

Kimial Diehl was many things. Witch and Meister, Healer, and Traitor to her own kind.

 _'_ _It's strange, I never thought I'd survive if my secret came out, yet here I am, walking down the streets of Death City and not a care in the world…well almost.'_ She thought as she walked along her Demon Lantern partner, Jacqueline O. Lantern Dupree towards the DWMA girl's dorms. Tsugumi Harudori and her Meisters, Anya Hephbern and Meme Tatane accompanying them. As Kim walked she reached into the pocket of her uniform and pulled something out, gazing at it reverently. Seeing her friend's gaze fixed on something in her hand Tsugumi asked, "What's that Kim? A good luck charm you made?"

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at the thought of a Witch doing something to bring good luck, Kim replied, "No, it's…well here."

The NOT Demon Halberd found herself holding an origami heart, painted bright red in what appeared to be permanent marker. What surprised her however, was the paper it was made from. A thousand dollar bill. Giving the Lantern Meister a curious look, was all she needed to do as she hurriedly took the item in question back before saying hurriedly, "Look, it was given to me a long time ago. The person who gave it to me told me that I had a good heart, and that I shouldn't let anything make me think otherwise."

The Halberd gave a surprised, "Oh~! So is that why you…you know, came out like you did?"

Giving the smaller girl a look she replied, "You make it sound like I was a lesbian coming out of the closet…but yeah, that the main reason. Plus it didn't feel right, sitting back doing nothing when others were coming back from the job, being mauled near to death by the Immortal Clan."

Tsugumi nodded remembering the day Kim ousted herself as a Witch…

 **(…)**

It was a temperate November morning. Anya, Meme, Kim, Jacqueline and she were just about to enter the DWMA when they noticed a helicopter coming in for a rapid landing. Curious, they made their way over to the helipad, only to be told to stand aside by Dr. Stein as he rushed two gurneys past them. To their shock and horror, they saw both Ox Ford and Harvar D. Éclair, both of them grievously wounded, to the point that it looked like the only thing holding them together was Dr. Stein's Soul Stitches.

Concerned, we followed them into the hospital as far as the nurses would allow us. Yet, even from here we could hear Dr. Stein shouting commands.

"We need A-positive and B-negative blood in here now."

"Suters, scalpel, get him on a morphine drip…Ok, it looks like Mr. Éclair will be fine now-"

He was cut off by Nygus who called out "Doctor, Ox Ford is coding!"

"Shit! No time for a crash cart. Clear, **Soul Menace!"** A momentary pause before "Nothing. Clear, **Double Soul Menace!"** Another pause before, He's still flat lining, ok one last time. Clear, **Triple Soul Meance!"**

There was a long pause then until they heard Dr. Stein speak with a weary tone in his voice, "We've done all we can. Call it, time of death… 7:15am."

Suddenly Kim was rushing forwards towards Ox and Harvar's operating room. We all followed, watching from the doorway in awed silence as she performed a miracle. Upon seeing her, Dr. Stein said calmly, Mrs. Diehl you can't be in-"

But the pinkette ignored him rushing over to Ox's side she said to his still warm corpse, "I don't like you, not in the way you want me to Ox Ford. But for some reason you're willing to put up with me. So, I guess that makes us friends, and I can't just let a friend die."

She then place both of her hands on his chest and intoned, " **Tanunucoon Raccooncoo n Ponpon Ponkitanu Pon Pon Pon."**

From her palms, a golden sphere of ethereal light spread until it encapsulated the spear Meister's body. She kept up the glow for several minutes. Even as sweat poured from her brow and fatigue clearly began to set in. She did not let up until Ox Ford drew his first shuddering breath. After which, she let her arms, which probably felt like lead at that point drop, the sphere of light fading along with it.

She took a minute to compose herself, then, she raised her hands above her head before turning around and saying simply, "I surrender."

This seemed to amuse Dr. Stein as he smirked slightly before lighting a cigarette and, placing a hand on the newly confirmed witches shoulder, he said, "Come on Mrs. Diehl, I believe a visit to the Death Room is in order.

To which Kim responded, dryly, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to give me a moment to write out my will would you?"

This cause the mad doctor to chuckle again before taking her by the shoulder and leading her out of the room where we stood apprehensively. Jacqueline stepped forwards fire in her eyes, as she said, "If you're going to arrest Kim, you'll need to arrest me too!"

"Jacqueline what are you doing?!" Kim asked her Demon Weapon.

"What a Demon Weapon is supposed to do, stand by their Meister's side." She replied, never taking her eyes off Stein, as she continued, "I knew about this the entire time, so if you're going to arrest her, you'll need to arrest me as well, got it?"

Shrugging the grey-haired doctor replied, "Fine come along then. What about the rest of you? Shouldn't you be in class?"

I took the liberty of speaking for my Meisters, "We're going with them…as moral support."

"Suit yourselves." Stein said as he led us to the Death Room. Once we were in front of Shinigami-sama's mirror he stepped from it saying cheerfully, "Yo, hi Hiya. What seems to be the trouble Stein?"

I had a feeling Shinigami-sama already knew why we were here, he was just playing dumb. But she stayed silent as Stein said, "Sir, Kim Diehl has just revealed herself to be a witch. I would like your opinion on what to do on the matter."

Using one of his giant Styrofoam-like hands, the Shinigami rubbed the lower half of his mask, where his chin would've been located, for a moment before he asked, "What did she do that caused her to reveal her identity as a witch?"

Stein replied, "She brought her fellow EAT classmate, Ox Ford, back from the dead after I failed to help him myself using conventional methods."

"Hmm, highly unusual…for Magic to be used for anything other than destruction. No doubt other witches didn't take kindly to this. Isn't that right, Kim-chan?

Kim shook her head before saying timidly, "No Shinigami-sama."

Nodding, the Death God, said, "I thought not, do you have anything you'd like to say in your defense?"

This caused Kim's aquamarine colored eyes to flash as she said with a bit of heat, "I have nothing that needs defending! I was born the way I was, I didn't choose this. Besides…" She finished in a quieter tone.

"Hmm?" the Shinigami pressed.

Glaring into the eyeholes of his clown-like mask defiantly, Kim said "Regardless of what happens to me here, even if you destroy my body and take my soul. You can't change what I know."

"Which is?" the Death God inquired.

In response, Kim asked to reach into her pocket, which the Shinigami allowed. She cupped something in her hands, something the rest of us couldn't see. Something I now knew was the heart-shaped piece of origami. Showing it to Lord Death, she said to him, "I know who I am."

The Death God looked at the hidden object cupped in her hands, and then, without warning clapped his oversized palms together before saying, "Ok."

"Ok?" We all echoed.

"She can stay." The Death God declared.

We all sans Dr. Stein, cheered at the news, rushing forward to congratulate our friend. After we'd settled, the Shinigami spoke once again, saying, "However, I would like you to carry a pager to the hospital at all times. Starting now, consider yourself both employed and perpetually on call by the DWMA hospital division."

Saluting, the Tanuki Witch replied, "Yes Sir…but what about my position as Meister?"

"We'll be sure to find time to send you out on missions, but, I feel you would be more useful in a supportive role until we figure out what did this to Ox Ford and Harvard." The Shinigami replied.

Kim nodded silently, before asking, "So uh, can I go to class now?"

"Oh yeah sure! Run along now kids and have a nice day!" the Shinigami told them, his tone jovial, waving as he sunk back into his mirror.

 **(…)**

 _'_ _That was a year ago. And it's all thanks to this thing that Kim-san is still with us.'_ Tsugumi thought looking down at the origami heart with a newfound respect, before glancing at Kim.

She had grown her hair out, now stretching in a pink sheet going down her back, curving in tips at the ends. She was a bit taller, had gained a slightly better figure, and had become more confident in herself. She was warmer and open than before her secret as a witch was revealed. Her love for money remained however, and when, where, and however possible she would trick other's into buying things for her. But, she never even mentioned charging her friends for her healing services

"Whoever gave you this must've been really wise." She said to the pink-haired witch.

Kim smiled fondly saying "He was **-is-"** she corrected herself firmly, "He **_is_**. Very much so."

She was about to hand her back her keepsake when a sudden large gust of wind picked up taking it from her grasp, and she and Kim could only watch, helplessly as it was carried off by the cool breeze of the coming night.

But then, there was sudden blur of motion, a disturbance in the air which ended in a loud thud several feet in front of the group of girls. Focusing their collective gazes a few feet in front of them, they saw him. He was clothed in garb that seemed to be from a different time period altogether. What looked to be a fedora on his head, a brown and slightly dingy set of dress clothes underneath a ragged brown duster coat, the cape on the shoulders all but torn to shreds.

"His clothing his clearly from the Victorian-era." Anya muttered loud enough for them all to hear.

As he drew nearer, they began to make out finer details. The fact that he carried a massive curved sword on his left hip, what looked to be a flintlock pistol holstered on his right side. A black scarf was pulled up over his face concealing all but his red eyes, and the few strands of white hair that poked out from beneath his hat. They then began to notice a peculiar scent coming from the stranger. The cloying scent of flowers intermixing with the pungent iron tang of blood, and the slightest hint of musk.

His strange apparel combined with his equally odd weapons, strange yet alluring scent, and the fact that the full red moon was rising as a backdrop behind him made the mysterious approaching figure seem rather menacing in nature. He came to a stop three feet away from them and held out a partly clenched fist towards Kim. Reaching forwards, the witch cupped a hand beneath his, and he deposited her origami heart into her waiting palm.

"T-thank you." Kim said wary of this strange man who just nodded in response. As Kim attempted to remover her hand away from his however, he gently grasped her wrist before speaking in a low tone, "One should guard their heart closely. For it is a weak and fragile thing, in need of constant protection from external influence. So hold your heart close and only give it away to someone you know will cherish and protect it from all the Horrors and Beasts in this world."

He then let go of her wrist before walking past the group. Yet, they heard a whisper on the wind, some final words of advice "You have a heart of gold. Don't let them take it from you."

Upon hearing these final parting words, Kim stood ramrod straight before spinning on her heel and looking for the mysterious man. But, he was nowhere to be seen. It was as if he had faded into the night like he was a half-forgotten dream.

"Did any of you see where he went?" Kim asked hurriedly, while rapidly looking around for the man.

Tsugumi, Anya, and Meme shook their heads collectively while Jacqueline approached her Meister, and placing a calming hand on her shoulder, asked, "Kim, what's going on? Do you know that guy from somewhere?"

Face scrunching in aggravation and distress, the tanuki witch replied, "Yes…no…maybe. I might know him. I won't know for sure until I see him again and get a chance to talk to him."

"Well it doesn't look like that's going to happen tonight. Plus, it's getting late, so how about we go home and we'll help you look for this guy tomorrow? I mean, it's not like he'll be hard to find with that getup of his."

The Lantern Meister nodded morosely, complying with her demon weapon's request. She was in silent contemplation for the rest of the night, and Jacqueline knew her Meister was thinking intently about that strange man and didn't bother her.

As she lay in her bed that night, all Kim could do was think, _'It could've been a coincidence. That,_ _ **or**_ _has he finally come back?'_

With this thought rolling back and forth through her mind, Kimial Diehl fell into a fitful sleep.

 **(…)**

 _'_ _It was nice, seeing Kim and some of the others again after all this time. She seems to have lightened up too, so good for her.'_ Soul thought as he used Quickening to dash up to, and into the DWMA.

He took out Evelyn as he walked, as well as a piece of horn from the Vicar Amelia that he'd hollowed out and covered in silver, flicking a small silver cap open at the narrowed end of the horn, he poured some bone marrow ash into the flintlock before loading the quicksilver bullet. His gun locked and loaded he made his way towards the Death Room.

A sense of serenity came over Soul as he walked down the guillotined hallway, the type of calm that came with the assurance of defeating a strong foe. Yes, he knew if it came right down to it, he **_could_** in fact kill the God of Death. Provided there were no other unforeseen obstacles present, Spirit Albarn, the current Death Scythe, notwithstanding.

When he came to the end of the hall however, he found not just the Shinigami and Spirit, but also every other three-star Meister and Death Scythe currently in the Death God's employ. This was a fight Soul was unsure he could win. Even with his newfound power as a Great One. So, he decided to try another tactic.

Approaching in full view of all those present he stopped well away from them, standing there silently for a moment before pressing his feet together, rising his right hand straight up, and holding his left arm out at a right angle. He held this pose for a moment before slowly switching the position of his arms.

Lord Death could only stare in shock! If this person was whom he assumed he was, he should have absolutely no knowledge of that gesture. As knowledge of its use died out more than eight-hundred-years ago with the fall of Yharnam. Yet, here it was being used once again. It did nothing to allay his fears about the sudden return of the Immortal Clan. The fact that he was dressed as a Hunter of all things only amplified his fears.

For Hunter's hunted. They Hunted Beasts, Great Ones, and Kin of Great Ones. Lord Death knew if it came down to a fight, he and his would win, only because they had numbers on their side. But he also knew they would not attain victory without heavy losses on their end, losses they couldn't afford.

Seeing Spirit about to go over and apprehend the young man, Lord Death put one of his massive hands on the Death Scythe's shoulder and shook his head to the side. He then beckoned the young man closer with his other hand. The Hunter let his arms drop to his sides, and he approached, yet his hands stayed within deceptively easy reach of his weapons Lord Death noted.

 _'_ _He's tensed and ready for a fight. This won't do.'_ The Shinigami thought to himself. Plus the boy had all but beckoned him, engaging in an ancient pact, asking for his aid. And of all his kith and kin, the Death God was the most sympathetic to humanity, believing in the power of their spirits.

And so, the God of Death did the only thing he could, and what ancient etiquette required of him. He took his true form. That of the black clawed, death tattooed, skull faced, Reaper of Eight-hundred-years ago. This was the face that all Witches feared, and even unto this day, still do.

Giving the Death God a respectful bow, The Hunter spoke his tone sounding gruff, world-weary, and yet oh so wise. "Greetings Shinigami. This Hunter has just come in from a long Hunt and seeks refuge before he ventures out again into the nightmarish night, seeking to put an end to yet another Nightmare."

The Shinigami's voice, now sounding darker yet no less kind replied, **"You may rest at ease here Hunter, for there are no Beasts, nor Blood-addled fiends that require the mercy of your blade."**

"Oh, and what of Great One's? How do I know you have not started this Beast Plague yourself?" he queried, sounding suspicious.

Lord Death silenced the coming protest from those around him with a slash of his clawed hand before saying, **"I swear upon both my flesh and my consciousness that I did not do this."**

Shaking his head, the Hunter retorted, "Your life, either here or in a Nightmare, holds no weight with me. Swear on something meaningful. Swear…swear upon the life of your Surrogate that you did not do this, and I shall believe you." The Hunter requested.

Once again, the Lord of Death found himself at a loss for words. 'How…how does he know about that?'

The Death God was oh so tempted to ask just how much he knew about Great Ones; but upon seeing the odd looks his subordinates were giving him, he decided against it. There were some things they just didn't need to be privy to after all. So instead he said, **"I swear upon the life of my Surrogate, that I have not brought about this Beastly Plague."**

Upon hearing the oath, The Hunter nodded silently. And the Shinigami took that as his que to continue, **"Weary Hunter, might I know your name?"**

"…" Now it was the Hunter's turn to pause before answering, yet answer he did. In a most beguiling fashion. "I am Henaid Evans, the Last Hunter."

"Evans!" the name fell from Spirit's lips like a poison and he sprouted a black scythe-blade from his wrist before he charged at the Hunter, swinging in maddened grief.

The Hunter easily sidestepped the enraged Death Scythe's assault. Bobbing his body left and right while nimbly moving backwards on the balls of his feet.

As Spirit continued to slash at him he raved, "It's all your fault Evans! What happened to my darling little girl, my sweet Maka…Its. All. Your. Fault."

The Death Scythe punctuated the last four words by slashing all the harder at the Hunter, all to no avail. Their one-sided fight ended rather abruptly when the Shinigami Reaper-Chopped Spirit in his head. He then began berating him in a severe sinister tone.

 **"** **You fool! Do you have any idea what you've done? You have violated the sanctity of a scared oath that has existed for eons! In attacking this Hunter after I vowed to grant him sanctuary, you have made me seen a lair, shamed me, and tarnished my honor Spirit Albarn."** Death himself spoke in a tone that promised a punishment the likes of which hasn't been seen since he skinned the First Kishin, Asura alive.

"B-But Shinigami-sama, h-he, the Punk, m-my daughter…" Spirit said quivering in abject fear.

At the mention of the young scythe-meister, Death's ire cooled if only just. For he said in a chiding tone, **"I realize you are worried for Maka-chan, Spirit. We all are, but you don't realize that by attacking this Hunter, one who I've granted sanctuary to, he could ask for my life in return."**

Several gasps were heard and Marie Mjolnir called out, "Surely you wouldn't actually let him kill you, would you Shinigami-sama?"

 **"** **If he demands it, yes. The ancient pact is absolute in its rules."** The Death God said solemnly.

Taking a drag off his cigarette, Stein commented, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't your death release the Kishin?"

The skull masked Shinigami nodded silently. All eyes turned to The Hunter, wondering what he would decide. Said Hunter was silent for a time before he finally spoke. "You can keep your life."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief only to tense slightly when he continued, "But, only on a few conditions."

 **"** **Name them."** The Shinigami demanded.

Ticking them off on his fingers, as he spoke, he said, "Firstly, to prevent this from happening again, I want him accompanied by someone who can keep an eye on him from now on." He said pointing at Spirit, before adding, "Preferably someone he'd feel uncomfortable being around."

The Shinigami's mind immediately went to Stein before he shook his head slightly. **_'No, that would be letting him off too easy. Besides, him and Stein get along at heart…Hmm, yes, I think that would be perfect.'_**

"Done." The Reaper replied, sinister glee entering his tone which caused Spirit to gulp in fear.

"Secondly, I'm reserving the right to ask a favor from you at any time in the future. One you'll have to grant, no matter how absurd it might be." The Hunter told the Great One.

Lord Death hesitated this time. After all, he could ask to execute Kidd and he would have no choice but to grant it. But, this Hunter seemed reasonable, so perhaps he could be bargained with?

 **"** **So long as it does not bring direct harm to any innocent in this town, then done."** Death replied.

The Hunter gave a brief nod, "Agreed. Lastly… lastly I require a certain bit of information."

 **"** **About?"** the Reaper inquired.

The Hunter paused before he removed his fedora and pulled down his black scarf, revealing his face to all.

"I KNEW it was you, you PUNK!" Spirit shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the cocaine-haired albino.

But Lord Death saw more. Soul 'Eater' Evans' red eyes were tired, weary in a way that worried him. His face looked haggard, and his mouth lacked its usual cocky smirk. Instead, his mouth was arrayed in a thin frown. His stance was loose but could easily become that same agile combat stance he had used against Spirit in a split second. He didn't know what happened to Soul Eater, but he knew he had gone from a near carefree child, to a hardened veteran Hunter. One that has possibly seen too much.

 **"** **Soul-kun, you have returned to us, at long last."** Lord Death said by way of greeting.

His frown deepening slightly, the boy gruffly requested, "Soul Eater Evans feels like a distant memory or someone else entirely at this point. Call me Henaid."

 **"** **As you wish, what was it you wished to know, Henaid-kun?"** The Death God asked.

"What has happened to my old partner…that is apparently, 'all my fault'?" The Hunter asked, ignoring the scorn filled look Spirit was sending his way when he threw the man's words back in his face.

It was Stein who answered, after he'd lit another cigarette. "She did not take your disappearance well Henaid. After three weeks with no contact from you, she became frantic. Wanting to send out search parties to look for this Castle Cainhurst. We did, at Spirits behest, but found nothing. No castle exists in the location she specified."

Stein took a drag off his cigarette, "This in turn led to believe you had been kidnapped and, as time dragged on, killed. She slumped into a deep depression for about six months, her grades dropped, and it didn't look like she was taking proper care of herself. Her clothes were a mess as well as her hair. Then, when she didn't come to school for a week, Black Star, Tsubaki, Kidd, and the Thompson sisters became concerned. What they found in the apartment was…dissection worthy."

He then took another drag on his cancer stick, causing the Hunter to glare at him menacingly, and prompting him to continue without further delay. "They found Maka…had succumbed to Madness."

The proclamation by the resident mad scientist caused the cocaine-haired albino's frown to deepen even further before he said, "That shouldn't be possible. She has an Anti-Madness Wavelength."

Stein smiled in a creepy knowing way before he said, "True, but it only protects her from external madness, the Madness of others. Not, her own, internal Madness."

Looking down in shame, the albino said, "So it really is all my fault."

"That's ri-"Spirit was silenced prematurely by another Reaper-Chop.

Soul bowed to the Shinigami before saying "Thank you, I know all I need to for now."

He then donned his fedora, pulled up his scarf, and began his walk towards the exit of the Death Room, only to stop when the Shinigami, his voice now back to its jovial tone, called his new name.

"Henaid-kun, what are you going to do?"

Stopping he turned slightly so he could look back at his fellow Great One before he replied, "I'm going home and try and get a decent night's sleep. Probably won't though. Then, early tomorrow I'm going to work on fixing this mess I've created."

He kept walking then, calling behind his shoulder, "And then, come nightfall, Henaid joins the Hunt."

 **(…)**

 **Number of Words: 12,113 – Date Completed: 12/13/15**

 **(…)**

 **AN: Well…ta-da! What do you guys and gals think? This is the first story of its kind. The First Bloodborne/Soul Eater fic in existence as far as I know. This chapter is a little short (for me anyway), but I did only bother to take four days to write it so, eh. Also, this is going to be an eventual SoulXHarem fic but I'm not going to make it easy for any of the characters involved. That said, I hope you all enjoy and till the next chap, Bubbajack out!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Waking Nightmare**

 **By: Bubbajack**

 **Betas: Self-proofread**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater or Bloodborne. They belong to Atsushi Ōkubo and From Software respectively.**

 **Ch.2: From Dawn, till Dusk.**

* * *

 _Soul had just arrived back in Oedon Chapel, the Blood-Moon now high over Yharnam, and the line between man and beast had been blurred when he smelt it…the unmistakable iron tang of blood in the air. Rushing to the origin of the scent, he found a pool of blood around Ariana's chair. Concerned for her welfare, for she hadn't been feeling well the past couple times he'd visited the chapel; he followed small puddles of blood, all the way down to the graveyard, where he put Father Gascoigne to rest. It was there he found her, maddened and weeping, next to a Celestial Child. The likes of which he had only seen in the Upper Cathedral Ward._

 _"It can't be…this is a nightmare!" the blonde-haired lady of the night muttered to herself, laughing madly through her sobs._

 _He approached slowly and gently placed his arms around the madwoman doing his best to calm her. "Shh, shh, it's going to be ok. Soon, you'll wake up from this horrible nightmare." He said to her as he silently drew a throwing knife from inside of his sleeve…_

 _With tears streaming from his eyes, he approached Arianna's child, with the same bloodstained knife…When the dark deed was done, he collected another Cord of the Eye from the corpse of the child, and took some time to dig a simple grave, he buried both mother and child beneath a simple wooden cross, before heading off ever deeper into the harrowing night._

* * *

Soul awoke with a gasp, covered in a cold glacial sweat. He shivered with both the chill and fear that permeated his body. Gripping his skull, he muttered to himself, "Get a grip Evans, you need to keep it together. You're the last damn Hunter. You need to stay healthy."

He glanced at his clock then and noticed it was almost 6 am. Throwing his sheets off his bed, the albino collected his necessary toiletries, and clad only in his blue and bone patterned boxers, trudged into the bathroom of the much smaller apartment he shared with his adoptive mother and aunt. Feeling slightly more awake after his shower Soul donned his Hunter garb, equipping himself with both Evelyn and the Bowblade and various Hunter tools. The Tiny Tonitrus, several variations of Molotov Cocktails, Oil Urns, and both Poison and standard Throwing Knives.

So armed he made his way to the kitchen where he found the Doll stirring something in a pot. Soul didn't know what it was, but he could tell even from here that it gave off an aura of death, and was best avoided. He tried sneaking past, only for the living automaton to immediately notice his presence. Turning and greeting him with a warm smile, she said "Good morning Dearest Hunter. I hope your sleep was full of pleasant Dreams?"

Sighing he said, "No, not really."

Frowning slightly, the Doll said, "That is most unfortunate." Brightening she offered, "Perhaps some breakfast will soothe your worries?"

Looking over at the pot, which was still giving off a deathly aura, he asked, "What exactly is in that?"

"Various things I picked up at the market while you were out last evening. Fish, carrots, oatmeal, beef, broccoli, wheat, seaweed-"

As the Doll continued to list all the things in this edible arcane horror, Souls' face became greener and greener. The vessel of Oedon finally noticed his discomfort and asked worriedly, "Dearest Hunter, are you well, perhaps you require food more urgently than you thought?"

This caused the boy to convulse in fear at the thought of actually eating that abomination. Thankfully, he was saved by the third tenant in the house who spoke from behind him, saying "I believe he's feeling ill at the prospect of having to eat that."

Annalise walked into Souls view wearing a black silken nightgown that trailed down behind her slightly. Her long white hair was unkempt and it was clear she had just awakened herself. It was clear to the cocaine-haired albino that Annalise was not a morning person, as her words would best be described as blunt and bricklike. Glancing at the Doll, he found she had unshed silver tears gathering in her eyes, her lower lip was locked into a quivering pout as she asked, "Is this right Dearest Hunter?"

Rubbing the back of his head, Soul said awkwardly. "Kinda?"

"So it is true! I am a failure as a mother, unable to even cook properly for her child." The Doll said sadly, her shoulders slumping.

Making calming gestures with his hands, Soul said, "It's not your fault, you've never had to cook before, right?" Seeing her nod, he continued, "Well there you go. All you need is a cookbook, a bit of practice, and you'll be a top chef in no time."

Still sniffling slightly the Doll managed to give her surrogate child a smile and say, "Thank you, my Dearest Hunter, you know just what to say to lift my fragile spirit."

Rubbing the back of his head, he replied, "Don't worry about it." Soul then noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, and to his horror, the contents of the pot had begun to stir ominously.

"It's alive!" he yelled out in warning while pointing at the pot, the contents of which had begun to form an arm of various ingredients, and letting out a gurgling moan.

The three stepped away from the pot, and Annalise queried, "What should we do?"

In response, Soul reached into his belt and pulled out a Molotov cocktail before saying, "Kill it, kill it with fire!"

* * *

The battle against the Breakfast Beast was long and arduous, but the Beast finally fell to Souls flames, even though he had to break out the Flamesprayer to end the foul creature. The kitchen was covered in all manner of filth which Soul thankfully, could just wipe off his duster. The battle won he called forth the Messengers and asked if they would be so kind as to clean up the mess while he went out to get food. Promising them a treat if they did so. The little creatures promptly disappeared and reappeared holding, everything from rags, to mops, buckets, and in one's case, a sponge and toilet bowl cleaner.

Knowing the kitchen was in capable hands, Soul made his way out into the early morning streets. A slight fog covered the cobblestone paths of the early Death City morn, inadvertently reminding the Last Hunter of the fog-covered streets of Yharnam. Shaking off such thoughts, the Hunter increased his pace, as if hoping to outrace the memories of the accursed city. His brisk pace soon leads him to the shopping district of Death City wherein lay various restaurants as well as numerous other stores. He walked leisurely down the street trying to find one that he thought Annalise and the Doll might enjoy.

"Excuse me, sir?" a voice called out.

Turning he found the group of girls from the other night flagging him down. Kim Diehl was racing ahead, her Demon Weapon and the No Edge Trio not far behind. Grouping in front of him, the gaggle of girls, led by the pink-haired witch, gave him a silent once over as if looking for something.

Confused he asked, "Can I help you, ladies?"

The other four gently pushed Kim forward causing her to panic from being put on the spot so suddenly. But Soul, being the gentleman he was raised to be, waited in patient silence for her to collect her thoughts. Yet this only caused her to panic more and back away from him with a slight blush tinging her cheeks. Taking a moment to calm herself, the Tanuki witch cleared her throat and asked point blank, "You wouldn't happen to **_be_** or know anything about Soul 'Eater' Evans would you?"

The question caused the other girls to gasp in surprise. They knew Kim wanted to find this mysterious man but never asked her why. They just knew it was important to their friend and thus decided to help her out. They now looked at the stranger with both a mixture of suspicion and hope, each for their own reasons.

Jacqueline looked at him because she hoped he indeed knew the whereabouts of the Albino Demon Weapon. For both Maka Albarn's and her Meister's sake.

Meme and Anya were hoping this person knew Evans' location for their Weapon's sake. The boy's disappearance combined with seeing her idol, Maka, succumb to madness had affected her greatly. They also suspected Tsugumi might also harbor a crush on her fellow cocaine-haired demon weapon.

Yet he merely shook his head and said, in that ever-weary tone of his, "No, sorry, I'm not him. I've never heard the name before in my life. Name's Henaid. I'm a Beast Hunter."

As one, the girls shoulder's slumped in defeat. But Tsugumi recovered quickly, her curiosity piqued by the man's self-proclaimed title. "Beast Hunter, you mean you actually hunt and manage to kill those of the Immortal Clan?"

"That's correct, Miss?" he asked.

Realizing her error, Tsugumi bowed in apology, saying, "I'm sorry! I'm Harudori Tsugumi and these are my Meisters Hepburn Anya, and Tatane Meme."

"Pleasure and you two are?" he asked the Demon Lantern and her Meister, who had her arms crossed and pouting, was looking at him disappointedly. As if she knew something the other's didn't.

"I'm Jacqueline O. Lantern Dupree, and this is my Meister Kimial Diehl."

"Delighted I'm sure…say would any of you know a good place to get some breakfast?" he asked them.

"What are you looking for exactly?" Tsugumi asked.

Rubbing the back of his head, the Hunter replied, "Something English I guess? I'm living with my adoptive mother and aunt. They're both classy ladies. I promised to bring them back something to eat."

Upon hearing this, Anya stepped forward confidently, saying, "If it is proper English food you want then there is only one place to go."

"Deathbucks?" Meme and Tsugumi said at the same time.

Nodding Anya replied "Deathbucks."

The Tanuki Witch watched silently as No Edge Trio dragged the Hunter off in the direction of Deathbucks. Her Demon Weapon, concerned with her sudden change in behavior asked if she was ok.

Sighing the Witch shook her head and replied, "I'm not sure. When he answered the question, I attempted to use Soul Empathy on him."

"What, you mean that mock version of Soul Perception you've been working on? But I thought you said you hadn't fully figured out how to get it to work yet." Jaqueline asked.

"I haven't." The Witch replied. She then shrugged and continued, "But I figured it would be worth a shot."

"Yeah, and? What did you get from the guy?" Jacqueline asked.

Her aquamarine eyes narrowing at the duster-clad figure, Kim replied, "He lied."

Following her Meister's gaze, Jackie asked, "About what, though? Being Soul, or knowing something about where he is?"

Frowning slightly, the Witch replied, "I'm not sure. In retrospect, I should've phrased that as two separate questions. But now we know he's hiding something. C'mon, we'd probably better not leave those three alone with him for long. At least, not until we figure this out."

"Right," Jacqueline replied falling into step next to her partner as she made her way towards Deathbucks.

* * *

Soul didn't know what hit him. One moment he was walking into Deathbucks, the next, he felt the air being squeezed out of his lungs and his face was being pressed into two very soft mounds. He could hear a very familiar childlike voice yelling jubilantly, "Soul-kun, your back your back you're really back! Heheheyaah! I'm so happy!"

"Patty! Let him go right now!" a sterner voice demanded.

"But Sis-"Patty whined, "Soul finally came back! I don't wanna let him go yet. In fact, I wanna take him home and cuddle with him and my stuffed giraffe."

"Patty…now." A new voice Soul recognized as Kidd's said warningly.

Soul could hear a sniffle and then a level, "Fine."

The Hunter was relieved to once again fill his lungs with sweet, precious oxygen. Taking great gulps of air through the thin veil of his scarf. After he's gotten a grip, he took in the appearance of the Thompson Sisters after three years.

In truth, they hadn't changed much. Liz cut her brown hair to chin length while Patty's too had lengthened to the same point. Both girls were in the maid uniform the female workers were required to wear at Deathbucks, allowing the Hunter to easily tell that, even into adulthood, the younger of the two Thompson sisters had overcome her elder in bust size. Not that Liz was small in that regard by any means, but the blonde must've been at least a cup size larger.

Kidd, by contrast, hadn't changed at all. He looked exactly the same the day he'd left three years ago. Offhandedly, The Hunter wondered if it had anything to do with him being both Kin and a Surrogate to a Great One.

Patty stood sullenly between her sister and Meister, who were looking at him apologetically. Kidd stepped forward offering a hand and saying "We're sorry about Patty. She's…excitable."

Gently gripping the Kin's hand the Hunter replied, "Think nothing of it. I do wonder about this Soul Eater, though. As this is the second time, this morning someone has thought I was him. Was he someone important?"

The others became sullen as the Hunter brought himself up. It was Patty who said, "See what you did? You made everyone sad by pretending to not be Soul-kun! Why, why don't you want to come back?!" the ditzy blonde asked tears collecting in her cerulean-blue eyes.

Now he felt like shit. Here he was amidst his friends, friends who presumed he was dead for a handful of years, and he was trying to keep them at a distance even after not seeing them for so long. But the horrors of Yharnam were far too fresh in his mind, and the very thought of what his friends would think of him should they find out about the things he'd done, the sins he's committed. The very thought filled his heart with dread.

 _'_ _If they knew what kind of a butcher I was, they'd wish I were dead. Besides_ , _it's better off this way_.' Or so he told himself.

Still, he couldn't stand to see a girl cry. And so, he briefly touched into the realm of the Dream and pulled from it a particular item. Acting as if he had it hidden within his duster the entire time, Soul pulled out the music box.

Opening the old blood-spattered wooden lid, he gently wound the key a few times and let it play its gentle lullaby. By the time it was finished, Patty had stopped crying. Instead, she stared at the music box in childlike wonder, saying, "So Beautiful Soul-kun."

"I want you to have this." The blonde looked up at him in surprise. "It is not something that belonged to me formerly, but to a fellow Hunter by the name of Father Gascoigne, who lost himself to the madness of the Hunt. So for me, it is naught but a painful reminder of a friend. Go on." He said, offering her the trinket, "Take it."

Gingerly, as if she thought she would break it by touching it, Patricia Thompson took the little music box, holding it close to her chest smiling like a child on Christmas morning. Soul felt better about himself, now. Plus, he felt as if he was relieving himself of some sort of burden. No more accurately a reminder of a particular sin he had committed.

For Soul knew in his heart, he could never truly make it up to Gascoigne and his family. If only he'd been quicker, maybe Viola would still be alive. And if Viola had lived, perhaps Gascoigne wouldn't have fallen to Beasthood, causing him to kill both the Father and Henryk, his yellow-clad partner. If he hadn't told the child about Odeon Chapel then maybe that wretched Boar wouldn't have devoured her, and if he hadn't delivered the bloodstained ribbon back to the little girl's elder sister, then perhaps she wouldn't have suicided off that ladder.

"Thank you," Patty said in a sweet tone that was filled with genuine warmth. Not the child-like kindness she usually portrayed.

"You're welcome." The Hunter replied in a half-there tone, consumed by his nightmarish memories as he shambled towards the counter as if in a daze. The blonde Demon Pistol, as well as the others, noticed his strange behavior. Placing a pair of shaky hands on the table, The Hunter said, "I need two dozen Danishes of various fillings, two medium green teas, two black coffees, and one pumpkin spice mocha-late triple expresso to go, please…Oh, and whatever those guys want." He finished vaguely waving a hand in the general direction of the group he came in with, plus Kidd and the Thompson Sisters.

The Master, the owner of the establishment, nodded briskly before going to the back to personally help prepare such a large order. It was done it a few minutes, and after ringing up his purchase, the Master said, "Your total is fifty-seven dollars and fifty cents."

"Right just let me…Oh, shoot." The Hunter said.

Seeing he was in distress, the Master asked, "Is something the matter young man?"

Rubbing the back of his head, The Hunter replied, "Sort of, I left my wallet at home…but I do have money. I'm just not sure how much its worth."

Seeing the café owners' curious look, the Hunter sighed and pulled out a bulging pouch that clinked slightly when he set it on the countertop. Pulling the drawstrings open he reached into the bag and dropped a handful of coins on the counter. The Master's eyes widened in surprise. As the dozen or so coins on his countertop were seemingly made of pure gold, and as wide as a human fist. Picking one up, he noted that both sides were marked with strange imagery, on one side were what looked like a crudely carved teardrop with an eye in the middle, and on the other, was an intertwining mark.

The Master then bit down on the coin he was holding. Feeling it give, he found, yes indeed it was made of pure gold, and not gold coated lead. Taking the single coin, he pushed the rest of the currency towards his customer before he asked, "These sigils, what do they mean?"

The Hunter took up a coin himself and looked at it carefully as if indeed observing it for the first time. A few moments later, he pointed to the teardrop-like rune and said, "This means Communion." He then flipped it to the other side and said, "This means Corruption. Are you sure that's all I owe you?"

"Quite. Have a nice morning sir." The Master said, giving the Hunter one of his once-in-a-blue-moon smiles.

Putting the remaining coins back in his bag, and picking up the drinks as well as the two boxes of Danishes, he nodded and made his way out of the shop. Once he had gone, the Master frowned concernedly.

"Master-san, is something wrong?" Tsugumi asked concernedly.

"That young man…is carrying a fortune on his waist and he doesn't even realize it." The owner of Deathbucks said after a moment.

 **"** **WHAT?!"** All present yelled, with Kim being the loudest of the bunch.

The coffee shop owner nodded and, holding up the coin for all to see, elaborated, "This coin is made of solid gold, weighing approximately one ounce. When I checked the paper earlier today, the price of gold, per ounce was one-thousand-eight-hundred-fifty ($1850) Dollars an ounce…and that young man's pouch was full to the point of almost bursting."

Stunned silence filled the coffee shop, and the owner carried on, "As he overpaid so much for so little, I think we'll open up a tab for him. So for now, anything he buys's here will be on the house."

"I think it would be wise if you took it a step further and informed the other shop owners in the area as well," Kidd said after a moment.

"Why, wouldn't they try and rip him off if they knew?" Liz asked her Meister.

Shaking his head, the incomplete Death God replied, "No you don't understand. Father values order and fairness above all else. So if he caught wind of people price gouging…he would become upset. You wouldn't like to see him angry." Kidd warned.

"Thank you for the warning Kidd-kun. I shall be sure to notify the other shopkeepers lest they bring about Shinigami-sama's displeasure." The Master promised before asking, "The young man also said he would be willing to get you whatever you want, on him. So, what will you have?"

Even as the other's placed their orders, Kidd couldn't help but have a sense of déjà vu. For when he shook the Hunter's hand, he could've sworn his Soul Wavelength felt…familiar.

* * *

After dropping off the two tea's and both boxes of Danishes, Soul took the remaining three drinks and three of the pastries, before making his way to the DWMA. As he neared the steps, he found Spirit waiting, looking rather glum. But he wasn't alone. Next to him waiting serenely was a willowy looking woman with long ashen blonde hair and dark brown eyes, her heart-shaped face denoting her Asian-descent. She wore a long black dress with buttons in a skull motif. The Hunter was annoyed by the presence of this woman. Scowling he hailed the two as he walked up saying, "Oi Spirit, when I asked the Shinigami to have someone keep you on a short leash, I requested someone you would feel uncomfortable with. This woman looks like just your type…heh, if I was a few years older, I'm pretty sure I'd be attracted."

The Death Scythe flew into a rage. Attempting to attack him once again, only to be stopped by a kidney punch by said woman who never lost her serene smile. She gave the Hunter a warm motherly smile and giggling a little, said, "My, my, well aren't you just a little charmer. I can see my daughter picked a fine young man as he Weapon Partner."

Crimson eyes widening in surprise, the Hunter rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment saying, "Ah, your Maka's mother. I'm sorry, I didn't realize."

She merely waved away his apology, saying, "No need, it's nice to be complimented by one so young."

Spirit, who had now managed to pick himself up off the ground growled out, "Stop hitting on my wife, punk."

"Ex-wife, you made sure of that," She told the Death Weapon sharply, making him sulk before turning back to the young man and giving him a warm smile said, "I don't believe we've ever been properly introduced. I'm Kami Nomikoto, Maka's mother."

"Henaid Evans, Hunter," He replied before offering her a coffee and pastries saying, "I got coffee, but it's black. I hope that's ok?"

"That was sweet of you, you didn't need to do that." After taking a sip, she said, "Hmm, hot and black, just like how I like my men these days."

This comment caused Spirit to moan piteously, and Soul could see that indeed, the Shinigami had chosen well, sticking the woman-chasing Spirit with his Ex. In doing so it, no doubt forced him to feel guilt for his actions and allowed her to get back at him for several years' worth of cheating in her own way. The cocaine-haired albino also highly doubted Spirit would be visiting Chupacabra's anytime soon as well, with his wife shadowing him. It was genius really.

"I really need to send the Shinigami a gift basket," He said aloud while placing Spirits food and drink on the ground next to his slumped form.

They were silent for a time, merely enjoying the food, drink, and peace of the morning. Then Kami spoke her tone hopefully hesitant, "Do you really think you can bring my daughter out of her Madness, Evans-kun?"

Nodding slowly, the Hunter replied, "Yeah, I know for a fact this will work from...personal experience. Take me to her and I'll explain on the way."

As the trio walked down the halls of the DWMA medical wing, the Hunter explained just what he was planning to do to save the sanity of his Meister and friend. "I'll be administering a particular Anti-Madness medicine that Hunter's use. We just call it Sedative. I don't really know what it's made out of, but it's very effective, fast acting medicine. Useful dealing with the aftereffects of the Hunt. Have her take one and let her sleep for a little, bit. When she wakes up, she should be back to normal."

"Yeah, and what if this medicine doesn't work punk? What then?" Spirit asked eyes narrowed suspiciously at the Hunter.

Said Hunter was silent for a time before he said, "Then…" He sighed, "Then I move to plan B."

"What's plan B?" Kami asked.

Soul was uneasily silent for a moment or two before he said, "I will use a Hunter Technique. One that involves etching a rune inside the mind of the user. The particular rune will reduce the Madness in a person. Doing this worries me, however, as I've never etched a rune in the mind of another before. So there's a chance I could mess it up causing this to go horribly wrong, and possibly driving her permanently mad." His tone becoming ever more unsure of himself as he went on.

Kami, however, was having none of it. Stepping in front of the young man, she put both of her hands on his shoulders and spoke reassuringly, "Evans-kun, you can do this. You have to because everything else has been tried, and if you can't help my daughter, I honestly don't know if I can get her back. Besides, we have complete faith in you, don't we Spirit?"

The Death Scythe just glared silently at the Hunter, causing his ex-wife to say, "We believe in him, **_don't we_** Spirit?"

"Y-Yes dear!" The promiscuous weapon said quickly, fear tingeing his voice and a shiver running down his spine.

The albino knew the woman meant well, but all it really did was add the weight of expectation on his shoulders. A familiar and uncomfortable feeling from his days as a musician. Now his fears intensified as if he failed to live up to people's expectations, this time, he wouldn't just be criticized for not being good as his older brother…No, **_his_** Partner, **_his_** Meister, **_his_** Maka would be irreparably Mad, her parents would likely lose all hope, and Spirit, at least, would blame him personally.

 _'_ _All the more reason not to fail.'_ He mentally told himself as he continued down the hallway leaving her parents in his wake.

As they finally arrived outside her door, Kami stopped him once again by grabbing his arm and crooning, "Evans-kun, I just wanted to say, before you start…that what happened to Maka-chan wasn't your fault."

A pregnant pause before, "Your wrong. If I hadn't left, Maka would be fine."

"And if Spirit and I had been better parents from the start, and thought more our daughter and her feelings than our own, then you would never have become the sole pillar of support to her sanity."

"But you forget something important. Maka didn't go Mad when she found out her father was a cheating chauvinist pig, nor did she go Mad after you left running around the world to forget about your failed marriage. She fell to Madness after I left. This is a fact and cannot be changed. So, no matter how much blame you try to place on yourself, it's still my fault…and it won't stop me from blaming myself either."

The Hunter then pushed open the door, and Soul felt as if he had walked back into the False Iosefka's clinic. For the shades were drawn over the windows, and all along the walls, written in blood, were notes. Musical notes covered all four corners of the room even on the drawn shades.

"Shut the damn door! You're ruining the Song!" an erratic childlike voice raved.

He was so perplexed by the state of the room that he hadn't bothered to look for its occupant. But he saw her now. Maka Albarn looked like she had seen better days. Her dirty-blonde hair looked greasy and in need of a wash, her mint-colored eyes held both traces of melancholy and mania and were ringed by dark circles signifying a severe lack of sleep. She was wearing a hospital gown underneath a long black piano coat. It was the very same coat he gave her all those years ago when they became partners.

Seeing he was distressing her he hurried into the room, her parents quickly following behind me, Kami shutting the door behind her. When the door shut, Maka started humming sadly to herself while muttering. Looking at the back of the door, Soul noticed even it had not escaped being painted in blood. Soul allowed his gaze to wander around the grisly room as he tried to piece together just what she had transcribed on the walls.

It didn't take him long, for soon he muttered, "It's the song…the song I played for her the day we first met." He said, speaking sorrowfully to himself and seemingly ignoring the maddened girls' interested parents.

"Hmm-hm-hmm-da-dumm-Oh my precious Soul, where are you? Why won't you come back? It is something I did- dee-dee-dee-daa-daa-daa-dum-Was it something I said? Was I a bad Meister, please come back, I won't Maka Chop you again! Just tell me what to do so this loneliness will end! I'll do whatever you want, as long as you just come back." Maka whine piteously.

"Maka-chan, Papa, and Mama are here-" Spirit began hesitantly, only for the maddened blonde to lash out harshly, saying, "I don't care, you're not my Soul, my Partner! Go away, your messing up his song!"

"Maka." The Hunter spoke, addressing the girl himself, causing her to look at him oddly as he approached her bedside, her head cocked to the side.

"Who are you?" she asked staring at him with glazed over wild eyes.

In response, the Hunter took off his fedora and lowered his scarf, revealing his face to his old Meister. Giving her his trademark shark-like smirk, the Hunter said, "I'm home, Maka."

"S-Soul-kun?" Maka asked hesitantly as if she were afraid to believe what she was seeing.

"Me-ow?"

Looking out of the corner of his eye, Soul found something or to be more accurate, someone he'd overlooked. But he paid her little attention for the moment, instead focusing on his Meister. Smiling warmly, the albino nodded and replied to her, "Yeah, I'm back. See, I heard you got sick and were giving your parents a hard time. So, I rushed over with some special medicine that will make you feel all kinds of better after you take it."

Yet the insane dirty-blonde merely threw her arms around his neck and proceeded to bawl. The Hunter, unused to such a benign form of physical contact, froze in shock for a time, before gingerly placing his arms around the girl, all the while making soothing noises and rubbing her back in an attempt to calm her. After he had felt her begin to regain her composure slightly, he said, "Maka I need you to do something for me."

The Mad Meister immediately perked up, "I need you to take this particular medicine I got for you."

"Don't wanna," Maka whined, "Just want you, Soul."

Patting her hand reassuringly, he told her, "And I'm right here. But, if you don't take this medicine-" He said, holding out a stubby glass bottle of thick syrupy liquid- "I might have to leave again. You don't want that do you?"

Maka rapidly shook her head, causing the albino to pop the cork off the bottle before pressing it towards the girl and saying, "Then drink up."

Not wasting a second, the dirty blonde chugged down the entire bottle of sedative. A sour look crossed her face when she'd finished, and she wretched ever so slightly, "Blegh!"

Giving a bitter chuckle the Hunter nodded and said, "Yeah, it doesn't taste excellent does it?" Maka shook her head, and Soul continued, "But what it lacks in taste it more than makes up for in effectiveness and potency." He finished, noting how his former Meister's eyelids were sagging, and how her head began to droop.

Soul then stood, only for Albarn to grab his arm and say sleepily, "Soul, this isn't just a good dream right, you'll really be here when I wake up, won't you?"

Realizing she was asking him to stay, he hesitated. For he had no actual intention of involving himself with others any more than he really had to.

"Roar!"

Soul didn't even wince when Blair raked her claws across his other hand. He did glance at her, however, to see her glaring at him pointedly. He knew exactly why she was glaring; and so sighing, he said to his drugged Meister, "Yeah, I'll be here."

"Good," Maka said, smiling contentedly before finally nodding off to sleep.

Once he was sure the medication had taken effect, the Hunter looked at the cat before silently motioning towards the door with his head. Blair glared at him a moment more before hopping out of the chair she'd been lying in and trotting towards the door, which Soul was kind enough to open for her, before following her out into the hallway. He shut the door behind him, sparing his peacefully sleeping Partner one last look before he did so. Once the door shut, he hearda a poof, signifying Blair had shifted to human form. The Hunter wasn't quite prepared for what he found when he turned around.

For Blair had forgone her usual witchlike attire. Instead, she was dressed more modestly, clad in an orange turtleneck sweater, black jeans, and green sneakers. If it weren't for the cat ears that were all but lying flat on her head at the moment, he would've sworn she was an ordinary girl. The nekomata noticed him staring and narrowing her amber colored eyed before asking harshly, "What are you looking at?"

Leaning against the wall, the Hunter replies, "You. You look good in casual clothing Blair."

His compliment only seemed to anger the monster cat, however, as she got up in his face and all but hissed, "Don't. Don't you dare come up in here acting cool after going missing for three years! Do you have any idea how worried Blair was about you? What it was like having to watch Maka-chan's downward spiral into Madness, listening to her cry out for you to come back night after night, then you do come back, and you show up dressed like a Hunter and are trying to skip out on her AGAIN! SO JUST WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF SOUL EATER EVANS?!"

Soul winced as his voice became a shout near the end, he had no desire for his identity to be known to his fellow DWMA students, and Blair might've just blown it for him. Quickly glancing left and right, he was glad that he saw no one rushing down the hallway to find the source of the shouting. Yet, something she said stuck out in his mind, causing him to ask, "What do you know about Hunter's Blair?"

Letting out an annoyed huff, the cat girl said under her breath, "That's what you took away from that?" she then spoke again in a normal if accusatory tone, "That's what I should be asking you. The way you're dressed, those weapons…it's almost as if…" Blair paused then, sniffing the air around the young albino.

Stepping back in surprise with concern for him now filling her amber eyes, she muttered, "Moonlit scents. By Bastet, Soul, what have you done?"

Shrugging, he replied, "Nothing, by choice anyway."

"You became a Hunter against your own will?" Blair inquired. Seeing the boy simply nod in response, Blair gave him another once over one she hadn't bothered with due to her overflowing anger at the boy. She saw his shoulders were slumped as he was bearing some kind of unseen weight on his shoulders, his crimson eyes, usually bright and full of cocky self-assuredness and arrogance, were now dull, cold, and filled with of weariness, along with profound worldly wisdom that bordered on Madness.

 _'_ _Those are the eyes of a Hunter.'_ Blair thought, _'A cursed soul who has seen too much of the actual horrors that plague the night, yet walks this world still, as the old saying goes.'_

Her eyes filling with sympathy, Blair murmured, "Soul, Blair's…Blair's so sorry."

The Albino merely shook his head and replied, "Don't be, it's not your fault. How do you know about Hunter's though?"

"They are a large part of Blair's cultural heritage, along with our long-standing feud with the Immortal Clan."

Seeing the blank look she was getting, Blair sighed a little, and said more to herself than him, "That's right, Blair never told you did she ~nya? Blair is a Nekomata a species of Monster Cat originally hailing from a now lost land bur best known now for coming from Japan ~nya. According to history, long, long time ago, we of the Nekomata Clan went to war with the Immortal Clan…we were on the brink of losing horribly, when we met humans who had also been terrorized by the Immortal Clan. In exchange for their help, we taught them how to use fire to burn the Beasts. Yet, even with their assistance, our original home was still lost, at least according to the legends."

"What was the name of your original homeland if I may ask?" The Hunter inquired feeling, a pit of dread filling his stomach.

"Hmm ~nya, if I recall correctly our ancient homeland was known as Loran…yes, that's right, Loran ~nya! Why do you ask?" Blair inquired her ears and tail twitching with curiosity.

 _'_ _I can't tell her what Loran has become, it would merely fill her with unnecessary fear. Best to let some corpses lie.'_ Soul had thought to himself before he said, "No reason, I was just curious. Besides, I just realized I hardly know anything about you as a person."

This caused the Nekomata to look away nervously, "Soul-kun is…very kind. He always has been nice to Blair. Blair wants him to know that she never meant anything bad by her constant teasing all that time ago."

Giving her a ghost of a smile, he said, "Don't worry about. I've been through a hell of a lot worse. To the point where getting woken up by you would be a blessing in disguise these days. Why were you always doing that anyway?" he asked her a hint of curiosity in his tone.

"Blair was marking Soul-kun. So no other Nekomata would try stealing him and doing horrible things to him."

"Huh?"

Again the Monster Cat sighed before saying, "Does Soul-kun remember when he ate one of Blair's souls?" Seeing him nod, she continued a blush staining her cheeks, "Well, amongst Blair's people, the sharing of one's soul with another is equivalent to an engagement."

He was silent for a time after that. He was quiet for so long that Blair thought she might've upset him. So she hesitantly called out his name, "Soul-kun, are you angry with Blair ~nya? She sorry, she always meant to tell you, but it was obvious you weren't interested, so Blair thought it would be best if she kept other Nekomata way from you, for safeties sake."

"I'm not angry," He said at last, "I'm just trying to figure out what me being engaged to you has to do with me being kidnapped. I assume it has something to do with successful reproduction, but other than that, I'm lost."

Her face reddening at his less than tactful if correct deduction, Blair nodded saying, "That's correct. You see, the birth ratio of males to females among Nekomata is roughly twenty-five to one even with most Mother's having three to five children at any give birth, the chances of having a male child are slim."

Blair paused then taking a moment to steel her nerves before she said, "However, we found that should we mate with someone who carries Weapon Blood, the chances of having a male child increase by half. Still not the best odds, being only twelve and a half to one, but much better than normal. Blair is one of the few purebred nekomata, which is why she has magic on par with a witch."

The Hunter nodded in understanding, "I see. Well, that explains your behavior. You were trying to seduce me, and doing a rather terrible job of it." He deadpanned.

"Hey ~nya!" the cat girl protested.

Ignoring the Nekomata's protest, Soul continued, in a lukewarm tone, "You failed miserably, but you were also trying to keep me safe, marking me like that. So, I guess what I'm attempting to say is thanks for that."

Hearing him thank her caused the usually boisterous and confident cat to fidget in embarrassment. "Y-Your welcome ~nya!"

"By the way, do you need to do it again, mark me I mean?" he said for clarification.

As much as she wanted to say yes just so she could hold him close and comfort him if only to ease his pain a little bit, she knew doing so by lying wouldn't be proper. So regrettably, she shook her head and said, "No, it's not necessary. It'll be obvious to any Nekomata that you're a Hunter simply by your scent."

Again, Soul merely nodded, before saying, "I see, thanks again Blai-" Soul didn't get to finish as suddenly the door to Maka's room opened and Kami appeared. Looking at him with her warm brown eyes full of both hope and concern she said, Evans-kun, I thought you would like to know that Maka-chan is starting to wake up."

"I'll be right there," He said as he silently wondered both what his old Meister's condition would be, as well as how long him and Blair had been conversing, as the sedative he gave Maka should've knocked her out for a couple of hours at least.

He entered the room like a ghost standing in the shadows and observing as his Meister slowly came to. Blearily Maka opened her eyes and looked around tiredly, mumbling, "Hmm, where am I?"

Soul felt a slight bit of irritation when Spirit shoved his face into Maka's and said "Maka-chan, do you recognize me?"

"Papa, what the heck, back off!" She said annoyed, pushing him weakly out of her personal space and looking around.

Her eyes widened when they landed on her mother, and she said happily but unsurely, "Mama, is that you?"

Kami smiled and embraced her now sane daughter, saying comfortingly, "Yes, sweetheart, Mama here. You'll be okay now."

Maka embraced her mother fiercely and said proceeded to cry on her shoulder, all the while, Kami ran her hand up and down her daughter's back, making shushing noises in an attempt to calm her down. Feeling, he was intruding on a private family moment, Soul once again tried to leave, only to be stopped by Blair putting a hand on him and pleading him to stay with her eyes. Silently he nodded and resumed his post. Once Maka had managed to calm herself, she pulled herself from her mother's shoulder and asked, "Mama, it's so great to see you! What brought you to Death City?"

Kami looked at her daughter and said in a supportive tone, "Mama heard you weren't doing well, so she came to stay with you, sweetie."

Maka looked confused for a moment, but then she looked down, noticing she was in a hospital bed clad in a hospital gown. Looking around the room, she saw the musical notes written on the walls in blood. With both fear and shame entering her tone she asked, "D-Did I do that, did I fall to Madness?"

"It's not your fault, sweet pea, it that punks for abandoning you," Spirit said trying to comfort his daughter…and failing miserably.

For all he did was incite her anger, causing her to lash out at him saying, "Shut up, Papa! You don't know anything about Soul, you never bothered to try and get to know him. He was courageous and kind. Even though he doesn't act like it half the time, I know he cared about me, why else would he have taken that hit to the chest for me…"

Maka laughed hollowly and said bitterly, saying, "I told him I'd get stronger for him. So he wouldn't have to protect me. Then, I go crazy thinking he died while waiting for him to come back from a family trip. If he could see me now, he'd probably call me a wimp for being unable to keep myself together without him." She said self-depreciatingly.

Blair gave Soul, who was still hidden in the shadows, a look then, motioning him forwards with her head. But the Hunter merely shook his head. The Nekomata just sighed and made her way forwards putting a cheerful smile on her face as she made her way towards the Meister. "Maka-chan, you're ok! Blair was so worried about you ~nya!"

The dirty-blonde haired meister had no time to react before she suddenly found herself being suffocated in a hug by her anthropomorphic housecat. Soul resisted the urge to chuckle at seeing Blair do that to someone else for a change. Instead, he began to stealthily creep his way towards the door. _'Maka's okay now, no reason to compromise her sanity by letting her know what I've been up to all this time. It would just cause her to worry.'_ He figured.

But his escape was not to be, for the moment Blair let Maka out of her suffocating embrace, she said, "But Maka-chan there is something you should know about Soul-kun."

Maka immediately became frantic, "What, what happened to him? They found his body didn't they? I never should've talked him into going to that place, and now he's dead and it's all my fault and I'll never get to tell him how much I-"

The Meister's tirade was silenced by the Nekomata, who after placing a hand over her mouth, said, "Maka-chan, be quiet and listen. You didn't just snap out of your Madness. Someone came and gave you some very special medicine that specifically deals with Madness. I think you owe this person a thank you before you go crazy again."

The Meister slapped the monster cat's hand away, frowning ever so slightly in annoyance before her curiosity overcame her and she nodded.

Blair scanned the shadows of the room with her remarkable night sight, she found the cocaine-haired Hunter standing next to the door, his hand, hovering over the handle. Frowning she got up off the bed and, putting her hands on her hips said, "Hey now, you weren't going to leave without making sure your patient was ok were you? If so, your bedside manner needs work doctor. Why don't you come over here and give Maka-chan a once over, make sure she's ok ~nya?"

Maka heard a long suffering sigh come from the darkness and then, he appeared as if melting out of the very darkness itself. Maka's breath caught as she gazed upon her Demon Weapon for the first time in a long while. His hair was longer, strands of his hair hanging in his face while even more hung down his back, past his shoulders. His face was gaunt, his mouth was arrayed in a weary thin-lipped smile, not the cocky shark-like grin he usually bore. His eyes were ringed with black circles that spoke fitful sleep or lack thereof. From within the depths of the crimson orbs themselves, Maka could see her partner had walked a long and painful road. One that lead him to the deepest depths of despair, tragedy, horror, and madness. Yet she also noted a warmth, flicker of fondness beneath all the pain he held in his gaze. The warmth, she felt, was only there because he was looking at her. Removing her eyes from his face, she took in the rest of him. He looked taller and thinner than when she had seen him last, and he was wearing clothing that would've been considered regal, had it not been so dingy, tattered, and covered in stains she suspected were blood. She noted he was nervously moving his hands around the rim of a fedora.

"Soul." Maka breathed out his name in a whisper as if were she to speak any louder, his form would shatter into a million pieces.

He nodded at her a little, hardly making eye contact before looking away and saying, "Maka, I…I'm glad you're ok."

Upon hearing his voice for the first time in so long, and the first thing he says is he was concerned about her wellbeing, Maka Albarn broke down crying once again.

 _'_ _I wasn't strong enough. I made Soul worry about me again, he had to come and save me again! Worst of all, something's happens to him and I wasn't there to help him.'_ She thought, causing, even more, thick salty tears to fall from her eyes.

As his Meister cried, the Hunter just stood there awkwardly, unsure what he did to cause this, and even more so about what he to do to stop it.

"Well don't just stand there, go hug her ~nya!" Blair whispered loudly over the sound of Maka's tears.

"Right," He said before moving forwards, past Kami and wrapping his former Meister in his embrace.

The crying ceased abruptly. Becoming nothing more than a stream of hiccup-filled sobs. Then…

"Maka-Chop." Maka hit him on the head with the edge of her hand. Soul felt no pain, however, and continued holding the girl in front of him. Her hand when from the top of his head, to gently trailing its way down till it found his neck, at which point she latched onto him and doing the same with her other hand, half dragged him onto the bed where she lay.

"Maka, your parents are right there." Soul reminded her.

"I'm sorry," She muttered, her head resting in the crook of his neck.

Confused, the Hunter asked, "What are you apologizing for?"

Sniffling, Maka replied, "For not being strong enough, and needing you to save me again." Letting out a harsh laugh at her own expense, Maka continued, "Plus if I hadn't pushed you to go on that trip, you have gone missing for a year and a half. Only to come back looking like your about ready to roll over and die at the prospect of living. And I wouldn't have lost my mind. It's all. My. Fault. Again!"

"Stop it!" Soul snapped at her causing her to pull back and look into his eyes and see annoyance therein.

Pulling away from her, he sat down heavily in an uncomfortable hospital chair. His crimson gaze still locked upon her mint-green orbs, said, "You don't get to blame yourself for what happened to me. What happened to me, was in the beginning, even beyond my control. But after that, I chose it. I chose to soldier on through the all the horror that decision to carry on brought. Every wrong choice I made after that initial decision to continue, just to see what was out there, and to see what Truth lay behind the terror I found myself in, was mine and mine alone. No matter how much you want to help, you can't change facts."

Soul paused preparing himself for what he was about to do, _'It's for her sake.'_ He told himself.

"And the fact is, what I went through, changed me. It changed me so much I don't think I can be the partner you need me to be anymore."

Her skin going pallid as a look of shock overcame her face, Maka stuttered out, "W-What are you saying S-Soul? Cause it sounds to me l-like, you want to b-break up."

"I wouldn't use that particular term, as we were never 'together' in the first place. But yes, I am saying for safety reasons I can no longer be your Demon Weapon Partner."

"Why?"

Maka looked and sounded so utterly broken and defeated at that moment, Soul almost changed his mind…almost. But his resolve firmed when he recalled his dream from this morning. _'I won't let that happen to anyone I care about. Not because of me.'_

Still he felt she was owed some semblance of an explanation, so he told her a partial truth, "It's my Soul Wavelength. It's increased to the point that any reasonable person attempting to resonate with me would be driven Mad, and with what you've recently gone through, partnering with me is the last thing you need right now."

Frowning, Maka looked down at her fists, which were clenched in her lap. With her bangs covering her eyes, she said, "I understand."

Grateful, he replied, "Thank y-"He was cut off by Maka snapping her eyes to his, and pointing a finger at him, she said, "But don't think this means you can just walk out of my life. You may not be my partner anymore…" Maka's voice became quiet, and she lowered both her arm and her eyes to her lap once again as she continued, "…But your… You're my Soul…the boy I lo-"

"Don't say it!"

Maka looked up at her old Weapon in shock as he babbled desperately, "Please, don't say it. I couldn't-I can't-"

Soul suddenly stopped, and then took a moment to compose himself. Opening the closed window he found the position of the sun, noting it was four in the afternoon. Still looking out the window, he addressed the woman in the bed, saying, "You were right you know that, Maka?"

"About what?" he heard her ask from behind him.

"Men. The lot of us really are a bunch of pigs. Before I left, I was seeing someone."

"Who?" Maka asked. He could hear the surprise in her tone.

Soul shook his head, still not looking at her, he continued, "It doesn't matter. I have no intention of letting her know of my return. Yet, even as I was seeing her, I'd think of other girls. You and Blair chief among them. So you see, you were right all along. All men are pigs. So you see, you'd be better off forgetting about me, and finding someone better."

"Hypocrite."

Soul expected the girl behind him to say a lot of things. To call him a bastard, to scream how she hated him, and how she hoped he suffered when he died. But he didn't expect to be called hypocritical. And so facing the girl he said, "Excuse me?"

Maka, who was giving him a deadpan stare spoke in a tone that matched that stare, "You heard me."

Soul nodded, "I did, and I would like to know why you think that."

Rolling her mint-green eyes, Maka replied, "If I'm not responsible for your decisions, then you can't be responsible for mine, or force me to change my mind on them for that matter. So guess what Soul, I love you, and you're just going to have to deal with it."

 _'_ _She actually fucking said it.'_ The Hunter thought to himself in amazement. _'This is not good. She has no idea what she's getting herself into with me. Of all the times for her stubborn streak to kick in.'_ He groaned mentally.

Sighing, before looking at the position of the sun he said, "Fine, do as you wish, but I can't stay. I have a few more things to do before dusk falls."

He then opened the window, pausing only when Maka asked, "What happens at dusk?"

Putting one foot on the window sill, the infant Great One looked back at his former Meister before saying "Ask your parent's if you're so curious."

He then kicked off the window sill, before disappearing in a burst of speed that impressed and surprised his Meister. After he had gone, Maka stared out the window for a time in silent contemplation. Finally, she spoke. Never taking her eyes from the window she asked, "Mama, Papa, what can you tell me about Soul?"

Kami being situated where she was could see the look of fierce, stubborn determination her mint colored irises. She knew then that the Hunter had just become the Hunted. Kami couldn't help but feel very proud of her daughter at the moment. Unlike herself who ran away when things got difficult, Maka was ready and willing to fight for her man.

 _'_ _Whether he wants her to or not.'_ The older woman had thought with a small smile before she answered her daughter's question.

"Maka-chan, Evans-kun has had a change of vocation. He's gone from being a Demon Weapon, to something known in the oldest of tales, as a Hunter…"

* * *

Soul walked around the DWMA, thinking about what he else he needed to do to prepare for tonight's Hunt. _'I need to pick a town to clean out, and I need to pick up my bike from Cooter if he hasn't sold it.'_ Soul thought.

With this thought in mind, Soul made his way back inside the building and headed towards the Death Room. When he arrived, his heart skipped a beat. For, standing there with her overly loud and boisterous Meister, was Tsubaki Nakatsukasa. She was as stunning as he remembered her being. Tall curvaceous, her midnight black hair tied behind her head in a ponytail, possessing a slight sheen to it due to the haircare products she used. The only difference he noted in her was a change in uniform.

Now, instead of a pale-yellow Qipao, she wore a white one with a black silken scarf wrapped around her neck that had stars strewn about its length. Black*Star was also wearing an outfit similar to his usual clothes, yet it too was colored black and white. The Hunter found himself annoyed by the color scheme. For it reminded him too closely of the Choir, the highest echelon and experimental branch of the Healing Church. What they did to those poor children was…unforgivable. All in the hopes of contacting the Cosmos, and equaling if not hoping to surpass, the Great One's themselves.

He could hear how Black*Star continued to rant and rave how he would 'transcend God.' Usually, he would just shrug it off as the shorter boy's God Complex, but now, it annoyed him. Hearing spout how he would surpass those who had elevated their thoughts beyond mortal comprehension without having to trek through oceans of blood and seeing mind wrenching horrors, all the while wearing garb similar to that of the Choir, who also took a similar path of sacrificing others for their own gains…Soul was incised to put the God-wannabe in his place.

Using the Art of Quickening to silently appear behind the loudmouthed fool, Soul punched in the back of the head with enough force to send him toppling over. He rolled on the ground for a moment, clutching his head in pain, covering the goose egg that was forming no doubt, and looking around for who 'dared' strike his Great self.

His eyes landed on him soon enough, and he hopped to his feet glaring at him dangerously…or it would've been, had the Hunter considered the failure of an assassin a threat at all. After a moment of sizing him up, the last of the Star Clan spoke, asking, "Who are you to attack a Big Star like me?"

"Someone who tires of listening to you talking about surpassing the Gods themselves, when you have yet to even get a speck of blood on your hands or even glimpse the Truth."

Looking at him with both curiosity and hostility, the blue-haired boy asked, "What Truth?"

The Hunter for a moment before he said, "Amoung the myriad of them that exist, the one that you need to know is that, Evolution without Courage will lead to naught but Ruin for you."

Scoffing, Black*Star replied arrogantly, "A big Star like me fears nothing."

Liar." Soul said sharply, before activating him Great One senses and staring directly into Black*Star's soul, he replied, "I sense much fear and anger in you. Fear of failure. Anger at a loss, defeat in battle, to be specific."

"Shut up, you don't know anything," Black*Star said darkly, his pupils becoming a five-pointed star.

Soul nodded knowingly, "Ah so has it already begun for you? Have you already started the transition from a Man to a slavering Beast?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" the white-clad teen all but growled staring menacingly.

"Soon…soon you will have to choose. You will either become a Beast and be hunted by me, or, you will rise above your base impulses, and become a Hunter like myself, one who Hunts Beasts."

Narrowing his eyes, Black*Star replied lowly, "You're just like him. Trying to get my Godly self to follow a particular path. Well, let me tell you something. I'm too big to listen to someone as small as you."

Chuckling slightly, Soul pointed out, "But, I'm taller than you."

It was true though Black*Star had seemingly had a growth spurt in the time he'd gone missing, he was only up to Soul's chest in height. All in all, he was stocky and muscular, but a little on the short side for a boy of seventeen. His comment enraged the smaller boy, however, and, holding a hand out towards his Weapon Partner, he said, "Tsubaki, Chain-Scythe mode!"

The dark-haired demon weapon was hesitating, however. Something about this man and his advice towards her Meister struck a chord with her. So she tried to get Black*Star to back down, "Black*Star, I don't think-"

"Tsubaki, **_now_** ," Black*Star growled out, his star-shaped dilated eyes never leaving the hunter's form.

 _'_ _Black*Star, you fool.'_ The Ninja Heiress thought as she begrudgingly transformed into her kusarigama form.

Catching her by the handles of her binary scythe weapon form, and holding one in a reverse grip, Black*Star bent his knees readying himself for combat. Soul merely stood there, weaponless and unarmed, gauging the boy's power. For someone who was human and not a Hunter enhancing themselves with blood echoes, it was rather impressive. But, it paltry to an experienced Hunter, much less an infant Great One. Still, he felt it would be wrong not to honor the obnoxious ninja's strength.

So he rested his hand on Simon's pommel, having named the Bowblade after its previous owner, and waited. He didn't have to wait long, for Black*Star was still not the most patient of people. With an angry roar, he threw one end of the twin bladed kusarigama his way. Soul braced himself, waiting as the bladed weapon drew almost too close to be avoided before spinning on his heel, his motion and the blades momentum carrying the attack right past him. Wasting no time, the Hunter used Quickening to dash in front of his opponent in a burst of speed. While he was still surprised, he drew his curved blade and sliced him from left hip to his right shoulder. Blood sprayed from the two deep gashes he managed to give the boy, one on his left thigh, the other on the right side of his chest, he was only saved from being sliced clean across his chest was thanks to Tsubaki's chain, which took the blow for him.

Using the fact he was stunned from his blow to his advantage, the Hunter flitted behind his quarry and in one clean stroke, had a bleeding wound going from his right shoulder to his left hip down his back. Then, as the self-titled 'Star' hit his knees, he took a step back. Flicking the blood off his blade, he spoke to his downed opponent, "You have now tasted the edge of a Hunter's blade. So tell me, knowing now that the gap between us is as deep as the depths of the ocean; what does now knowing this Truth, which you were previously ignorant of, fill you with? Courage…Or Fear? For if it is the latter, then you shall never surpass God. For Evolution, without Courage, will lead to Ruin."

"Shut up!" Black*Star said before forcing himself to his feet, his star-like pupils becoming more pronounced.

Shaking his head in disappointment Soul sighed and said, "It seems you have still not been cleansed of your beastly idiocy. I shall have to try and stop being so soft on you I see."

With that, he disappeared in a burst of Quickening once again. Black*Star immediately turned about, first looking behind, then left, right, and facing forwards again in a matter of seconds, only to find nothing.

 ** _[Black*Star, from above!]_** Tsubaki warned her Meister.

But the warning only came just in time for the wannabe God, to look up and see doom, in the form of arrows made of coagulated blood streaking his way from the sky. The first two pierced his shoes, pinning him in place. One hit him in his right thigh, two more struck the flesh that covered his collar bone, and a final pair struck him in his forearms, causing him to drop his weapon, and fall onto his wounded back with a groan that was a mix of pain and anger.

Soul touched down on the ground gracefully, holding the transformed Kris blade in his left hand as he approached. As he neared, Tsubaki assumed human form, standing protectively in front of her Meister. Taking up some kind of martial arts stance he was unfamiliar with, she said, "Stop, I won't let you hurt Black*Star anymore."

Much to her surprise, this strange man did indeed stop when she told him to. He stopped and she could feel his gaze on her, drinking in her form. Tsubaki felt heat spread across her cheeks due to the intensity of his person's gaze. Apparently, he noticed her blush for he chuckled before snapping his bow back into a curved blade, and sheathing it at his side. He then quietly walked past both her and her Meister towards Shinigami-sama, who had been silently watching the fight from his mirror the entire time. Yet he stopped briefly to look over his shoulder and say, "Your Weapon deserves better. One who thinks with his head, not with his ego. Hopefully, this defeat has taught you humility, if not wisdom."

"Tsubaki-chan, please take Black*Star-kun to the infirmary. I have things to discuss with Henaid-kun. By the way, how is Maka-chan, did your treatment work?" he asked, addressing the Hunter.

This caught both Tsubaki's and Black*Stars attention. They knew Maka had succumbed to Madness a year and a half ago, and nothing anyone did seem to help. So they paused, hoping to hear about some change in her condition. Sighing, the Hunter replied, "She's okay now. My original idea for a treatment worked like I'd hoped it would, and her sanity has been restored. She should be able to go home with her parents today, once she's given the green light."

Both Weapon and Meister grinned at one another and rushed, double-time out of the Death Room.

"Good, good. I'm sure Maka-chan happy to be back on her feet. Now, what did you need Henaid-kun?" Lord Death asked in his light tone.

"Drop the façade first of all." The Hunter deadpanned. During his time in Yharnam, Soul had come to dislike mysteries. He much preferred to know just whom he was speaking with, especially if it was face to face like now.

There was a slight puff of smoke. When it cleared, he was face to face with the Reaper, who spoke in his dark, sinister tone, **"Ask and ye shall receive. Now, you came here for something other than trying to teach Black*Star humility did you not? What is it you require?"**

"I'm going hunting tonight. I want a list of all the small towns around Death City. I'll start clearing them out first before I go after larger cities like Las Vegas or Boulder City."

Stepping out of his mirror entirely, the Reaper waved a clawed hand over the smooth surface. It had rippled for a moment before a map of all the towns in the state of Nevada appeared. Soul chose to ignore the numerous ghost towns and unincorporated communities, for now, choosing two of the populated cities that were in Nye County besides Death City. He chose the towns Beatty and Gabbs. Both were relatively small towns, Beatty having a population of slightly over one-thousand while Gabbs had one of almost two-hundred. He felt he should be able to clear them both out, come dawn.

"Right then, looks like I'm off to Beatty and Gabbs." Soul said voicing his decision.

Clearing his mirror of the map, the Reaper spoke, "Would you like me to send some of the three-star Meister's with you, to speed up the process?"

The albino shook his head, "No, hunting Beasts is Hunter's work. Just as it a Meister's work to hunt Afreet, so too must Hunters hunt Beasts. The only place our work coincides is the Hunting of Witches."

The Shinigami nodded, **"Very well."**

As Soul walked away, he heard the Death God call out to him in his comic tone, "Soul-kun?"

Turning, he found Lord Death giving him a thumbs up and say, "Good will hunting."

Turning and walking away with a smirk on his face, Soul raised a hand in farewell.

* * *

Soul had everything he needed, he was armed, armored, and he had a destination or two in mind to begin his long crusade.

 _'_ _All I need now is a ride.'_ Soul thought as he stood in front of a store. This particular store like all others in Death City was skull themed having a skull and several bones making up the spokes of a wheel for a sign that said **"Cooter's Death Rides!"**

Walking into the shop and ignoring all the bikes that sat gleaming on the showroom floor, Soul made his way to the counter where a thin, scruffy looking man with a look that just screamed 'backwater.' His attire, which consisted of a blue jumpsuit, an orange cap with his name embossed on it in black script, a beatnik beard, and untamed sideburns. He looked up from his issue of 'Cars' magazine when he heard the door to his shop open.

Upon seeing what was obviously a blue blood enter his shop, Cooter Davenport sat up in both curiosity and confusion. Feeling he might have a sale on his hands, Cooter said in his politest southern drawl, "Welcome to Cooter's Death Rides, Ah'm Cooter, owner, and prop-pry-it-tor. Are there any'thin Ah kin help you wit' sir?"

Taking a piece of faded stained paper out of his pants pocket the man replied, "Yes, I'm here for a pickup. Number sixty-nine?"

The good ole' boy's eye's widened in surprise. For he knew **_exactly_** which sweet ride was tagged with that number without even looking, and he also knew the owner hadn't been around for a good long while now.

"Kin Ah sees sum ID please?" he asked.

Nodding, the man reached into the pocket of his dress pants and pulled out a simple black leather wallet which he pulled his driver's license out of before handing it over to the man. Cooter looked at the picture, and sure enough, it was him alright, there was no mistaking that shark-toothed grin. "Hn, Yer driver's license expired Soul."

Pulling off his fedora and scarf, the albino replied, "Since when have you ever cared about things like that you old Coot?"

Smirking, Cooter replied, "Ah, ain't old son! Now, why don't you tell Cooter where you been these past couple'a year's eh? You've 'ad Sue worried sick ya know?" his tone becoming slightly disapproving in the end.

"Sue?" the hunter questioned.

In response, Cooter thumbed the wall behind him towards a row of pictures under the heading "Employee of the Month."

In each frame for almost the last three years straight, the smiling face of Tsubaki Nakatsukasa could be seen. Smirking Soul shook his head and said, "She's been working here?"

Seeing the redneck nod, he asked, "Why?"

Looking at him like he was stupid, Cooter replied, "Cause 'o you 'o course." Seeing the lost look he was getting the car junkie elaborated, "You didn't honestly think she'd let your bike get sold when you din' come back did ya?"

"She started working here to pay off my exorbitant storage fee?"

The mechanic nodded, "At first, yeah. But she was so useful 'round here keeping the place clean and helping me keep the books and such, that Ah ended up givin' her all her money back every Christmas as a 'Christmas bonus'. 'Sides Ah found a good use fer yer bike since it was just sittin' round as it was."

Seeing the albino giving him a suspicious look Cooter held his hands out defensively and said, "Easy now friend, I din' do any'thin' **_wrong_** to the _Arawn_."

"You named my bike? He asked blinking in surprise.

Shaking his head, the mechanic replied, "Nah. That was Sue's doin'. She done looked up yer family history hopin' to find some clue as to where you'd gone, and she found you were Welsh. So she went and named yer bike after the Ferryman and King of the Underworld. She said it was appropriate considering, yer middle name an all."

Smiling slightly, Soul said, "That's cool. So what exactly did you do to my bike?"

Smirking knowingly, the mechanic led him to **_a_** motorcycle, but it certainly didn't look anything like **_his_** bike. The bike he'd left with the man three years prior. For the bike he'd been lead to was all fire engine red, and polished chrome. Its trifold exhaust flaring in the back like something one would expect to find on a hot rod, the rims were in the shape of Tsubaki's Shuriken form, and the wheels were larger as if made for all terrain, which was probably meant to accommodate for the now huge engine block the thing was sporting. He also notices a tube going from the engine leading around the back to a canister of nitrous that had been added discreetly to hide behind the back seat underneath a large black leather and metal studded pair of saddle bags. The on the bright red gas tank written in cursive Chrome was the name _Arawn._

Bending down to get a closer look at the strange engine, he muttered, "What the hell kind of engine is this?"

"That would be ah Rolls Royce Allison 250-20b engine, from the MTT Turbine "Streetfighter" Superbike, capable of hitting speeds of 250mph. So basically, it's a jet turbine."

Soul stood and looked at the mechanic dumbstruck, "You put a jet turbine on my bike?"

"An' nitrous. Had to make a frame out of titanium. Otherwise, she'd buckle under the strain of goin' that fast."

Shaking his head at the incredulity of it all the Hunter asked, "Why'd you do all of this to my bike, though?

"Well, Ah needed to test all the new stuff on sum'thin din' Ah?" Cooter said as if it were common sense. "Side's now you got all the best kit fer yer ride."

He paused for a moment before asking, "Ah know it ain't none o' my business, but I just gotta ask. Where you been, man?"

Looking the mechanic in the eye, he said cryptically, "On a long ass hunting trip. I'm not done either."

Stroking his beard, Cooter replied, "I git ya, at least, Ah think Ah do."

Without a word, Soul got on his new and improved bike maneuvering it out of the shop before revving the engine, bringing the beast to live. Giving the mechanic a two-finger salute, the Hunter took off down the cobblestone streets of Death City. Winging his way toward the dessert.

Only after the boy had gone did a thought cross the mechanic's mind, _'Awe shoot, what am Ah gonna tell Sue when she shows up fer work.'_

Shrugging he said to himself, "Ah'll just tell her the truth. Ah'm sure that'll make her happy."

* * *

Meanwhile, back in the DWMA, Tsubaki had just left Black*Star in the capable if creepy hands of Dr. Stein and so, she decided to visit Maka and see how she was doing. Blackstar wanted to come as well, but Dr. Stein insisted he stay overnight in the infirmary. Eager to see her friend, the ninja heiress walked at a brisk pace until she came to Maka's ward, where she hesitantly paused for just a moment before knocking on the door politely.

"Come in!" A familiar and oh so sane voice called. It was one that Tsubaki recognized instantly and one that she hadn't heard that coherent for over a year. Yet for all the sanity she could now hear in Maka Albarn's voice, there was also something else in her tone. Something the nineteen-year-old noted as she opened the door to find the girl staring out her window lost in thought, her hands clasping tightly at the sheets in her lap.

 _'_ _Maka-chan is worried.'_ Tsubaki noted.

Glancing out of the corner of her eye at who entered, Maka was surprised to find Tsubaki Nakatsukasa entering her room. She was so lost in her inner turmoil of thoughts that she just assumed it was her Mama and Papa returning after she requested some time alone to think. So she was quite surprised to find one of her dearest friends walking into the room instead. The shorter girl immediately looked down in embarrassment and shame. Maka did this because she didn't know how to feel upon seeing her one of her friends again.

 _'_ _They probably think I'm weak, falling into Madness like that. I bet if I look up right now, I'd see pity in her eyes. I bet everyone is going to treat me differently now like I'm fragile like I'm made out of glass and could break at any second.'_ Maka thought sourly to herself.

Yet her self-condemnation ceased upon feeling the older girl's arms wrap around her and for her to hear her whispering in a relieved gentle tone, "Oh, Maka-chan! We were all so worried, I'm glad you're ok now, and the others will be too once they find out I'm sure."

Just like that, Maka felt her worries all but evaporating. She knew her friends would be concerned about her no doubt, but that's what friends did. They worried for one another. And so, smiling, she returned the older girls hug for a moment before pulling back and giving her a once over. She noted Tsubaki was wearing her Spartoi uniform, so she asked, "How's everyone in the unit been doing without me?"

"Well, that's the thing Maka-chan, the Immortal Clan as become so numerous that a quarantine has been called. No one, not even the three-star Meisters are allowed to leave Death City at the moment."

Maka was stunned, "How long has this been going on?"

"The quarantine? About six months now. But that's not important right now. I'm curious as to your swift recovery. When Black*Star and I were speaking to Shinigami-sama earlier, a stranger came into the Death Room attacked and injured Black*Star pretty badly before saying to Shinigami-sama that his treatment of your madness worked as he expected. So after I dropped Black*Star off in the infirmary, I decided to come see you."

Maka was so surprised at hearing her old partner had hurt her friend, a friend he was rather close to too that she said aloud, "I can't imagine Soul doing anything harmful to Black*Star. Just what was he saying that got him so riled up?"

The Nakatsukasa heiress had looked at her friend, surprise and shock apparent in her indigo eyes before she whispered hopefully, "Soul-kun, he's…he's Really back? Maka-chan, A-are you sure?"

Looking at how her friend was acting, something soul said earlier came back to her, causing her to try and fish for confirmation, "You know Tsubaki, Soul told me, before he up and disappeared, that he had a girlfriend."

She noticed Tsubaki tense in her shoulders slightly, yet her demeanor remained calm as she asked, "Is that so? Did he give you a name?"

Maka shook her head, saying, "No, he said it didn't matter. As he had no intention of telling her, he'd come back…Then he tried to convince me that my assumptions about all men were correct and he said he thought about other girls while he was with her. He named Blair and me individually."

Maka had expected an outburst at this point. But instead, Tsubaki just smiled and said, "Well, at least, he's finally being honest with himself and not bottling things up. That's not healthy you know?"

Blinking owlishly for a moment, trying to digest what she'd just heard, Maka finally managed out, "Wait, you knew?!"

Chuckling softly, the ninja replied, "Of course. It's obvious Soul cares for the two of you very much. In fact, I don't think I'd be out of place if I said everyone but you knew Maka-chan, sorry, that was rude." She apologized.

Shaking her head, Maka decided to throw all caution to the wind and said, "Don't worry about it, I think soul might've been lying to me anyway as he was apparently trying to push me away after I tried confessing to him."

"Push you away, why would he do that? That doesn't sound like him. Especially if you were confessing." Tsubaki noted worriedly but then she thought back to what the 'mysterious man' kept saying to Black*Star, _'Evolution without Courage will lead only to Ruin.'_

"According to my Mama, he was something called a Hunter now. One who Hunts Beasts that Demon Weapon isn't as effective against like the Immortal Clan. She also told me that, according to the oldest hunter tales most Hunters lost themselves in the madness of the Hunt and became horrible beasts themselves." Maka supplied worry fleck in her tone.

Hunter, now that term sounded familiar, something her father once told her about her ancient family history. Something Tsubaki would need to look into when she had the chance. For she had a good feeling, her family was doing well despite the fact she hadn't heard from them for several weeks.

"I'm worried about Soul, Tsubaki. He's changed, and not just physically. He's all grim and severe now, and his eyes! His eyes Tsubaki, they're like bloody pools full of despair, knowledge, borderline madness. That's why I told him I was going to love him anyway, I could say he needed me now more than ever."

Maka was silent for a moment as if waiting for the older girl to say something. When it didn't happen, she asked, "What about you, will you be there for him too, if he needs you?"

"Me?" Tsubaki asked surprised.

"Yes, you. As his ex or maybe it's still current girlfriend?" Maka shrugged before continuing, "I'm assuming you'd like to be there for him right?"

Tsubaki gaped like a fish for a moment before she bowed from her seat and said, "I'm so sorry!"

"Tsubaki-" Maka tried to interrupt, but the usually calm girl was in a rare crazy mess, and couldn't or wouldn't hear her words. So she just listened as she explained how she ended up falling for her weapon.

"I'm sorry, I never meant to fall for Soul-kun! It just sorts of happened. I had just moved to Death City from Japan, and my English wasn't the best. I had a hard time in the store trying to find certain ingredients' for dinner the first night, and seeing my difficulty, Soul offered to help me. I was quite surprised when he started speaking Japanese, let me tell you."

"Wait Soul speaks Japanese?" Maka inquired, shocked.

Nodding, Tsubaki replied, "Yes, he does. I learned later it was because he enjoyed Japanese smooth jazz. To the point, he taught himself the language just so he could understand what they were saying in some of the songs. So he comes up offers to help me find what I need. He looks at my list for a moment before sheepishly admitting while he can fluently speak the language he can't read it."

This causes both girls to giggle a little before Tsubaki to continue her tale, "I list off what I'm here for, and he leads me down the aisles, except the tampon aisle saying there are some things even he wouldn't do. All the while he was blushing. Once I got everything I needed, I went to the cashier only to find things that are quite common back home are rather expensive here in America. Seeing that I couldn't pay my bill, Soul did it for me, saying it 'Wasn't cool for a guy to not help out a new girl.' He then helped me carry everything home, much to my protests."

"Why couldn't he ever act the gentlemen around me?" Maka huffed under her breath.

Covering a smile with her hand, Tsubaki replied, "It was because he always found you to be cute when you were angry. That, and whenever he looked at you, he couldn't help but think of a grade schooler."

Although the first part of the Japanese girls' answer caused her cheeks to heat slightly, the second half made her narrow her eyes in anger abs state, "It's my chest size isn't it? Oh, he is so getting Maka-chopped next time I see him."

"A-Actually-" Tsubaki intervened for her paramour's sake, "It's the pigtails…according to Soul anyway…Sorry."

This caught Maka off guard. Reaching up and stroking one of her gathered locks she said incredulously, "He can't think of me as a woman…because of my hair style…are you kidding me?!" The scythe-meister raved, raising her voice at the end.

"Sorry." Tsubaki said once again, before adding hopefully, "He does like it when you wear your hair down, though, or what you did with it during the Death City Anniversary party, he told me he really liked that."

"R-Really?" Maka asked perking up immediately.

Tsubaki nodded serenely before continuing with her tale, "Yes. Anyway, after escorting me to my house and helping me put away my groceries, he asked if I needed help with anything else besides my English. I told him no and invited him to stay over for some tea, during which he offered to help me improve my speech."

I have a quick question." Maka inquired.

"Yes?" Tsubaki asked warmly.

"When exactly did you two meet? Like how old were you and Soul?"

Smiling fondly, Tsubaki replied, "At the time of our first meeting, I was thirteen, and Soul-kun was eleven. He would meet you, and I Black*Star, a year later respectively. And then-"She stopped when she saw her friend giving her a sly look. This prompted her to ask why she was looking at her like she was.

"Tsubaki, you cradle robber! First Soul, then having Black*Star as a Partner, are you sure you aren't into little boys?" Maka teased, causing the older girl to go beet red.

"I-I am not! It's j-just coincidence! A-Anyway, by the time we all became partners I was fluent in English thanks to Soul coming over almost every day….and at that time, I saw him as a little brother nothing more. He was twelve and living all on his own. How could I not worry?"

 _'_ _Even all the way back then, Soul had already left his family?'_ Maka wondered becoming saddened at the thought. For she still had her Mama and her Papa then, even if she knew her Papa was a lying cheating chauvinist pig.

Her thoughts must've shown in her expression for Tsubaki said, "Soul, has always felt distant from others hasn't he? From his family for never seeming as good as his older brother Wes, and from us because…well, because he's afraid of letting people in. That if he does, they'll become disappointed with the real him just like his family was with his music. I think the thing Soul fears most, is disappointing those he feels closest to."

Maka couldn't help but nod in agreement, for Tsubaki's statement fit her Weapon to a tee in her opinion. "Yeah, that sounds like him. So, we need to get him to see we aren't disappointed in him…could be hard, knowing him." Maka sighed for a moment before saying, "Well if you knew him since he was eleven how did you actually start dating and for how long?"

A fond smile crossed the Demon Weapons face as she began her recollection, "Well do you remember how I was acting for a couple of weeks after I obtained the Uncanny Sword?"

Maka thought back, _'Now that she mentions it, Tsubaki seemed depressed.'_

Saying as much caused the older girl to nod solemnly and say, "Yes, which is because the original holder of the Uncanny Sword was my brother Masamune, who, due to jealousy over the fact that I inherited the lion's share of our families' weapon transformations, became an Afreet."

Maka covered her mouth in shock. Her mint eyes widening for a moment before she managed to get out from between her hands, "Oh Tsubaki, I'm so sorry."

The Japanese girl just shook her head, saying, "Don't be, it took Soul to make me see that I wasn't responsible for what happened to Masamune. Nii-san chose his path, just as I chose mine."

Seeing the curious look the scythe-meister was giving her upon seeing her Weapon being brought up yet again, Tsubaki explained, "Well, Soul, upon seeing how odd I was acting, confronted me privately. He'd become quite good at reading me after knowing me for two years so he could tell something was off."

Maka distinctly recalled Soul asking to speak to Tsubaki privately one day after class. She'd assumed he'd wanted to have a look at her notes as he'd all but slept through class that day. _'Guess not.'_

"So, he confronted you, and then what?" Maka prompted after Tsubaki paused for a time.

Shifting in embarrassment with a blush tingeing her cheeks, the Nakatsukasa heiress replied, "After I explained everything Soul took out a cellphone and, after making a few quick calls he…chartered a private jet to take us both to Japan for the weekend."

With eyes like saucers, Maka gapped for a moment before she yelled out, "He has enough money to charter a private jet?!"

Sheepishly nodding, Tsubaki replied, "Y-Yes, he told me that his family are actually a quite well off group of musicians that are descended from a famous Welsh composer. He seemed embarrassed to even admit that much, however, as he hates relying on the family money and would rather earn his own."

Tsubaki listened as the Meister grumbled darkly for a moment before sighing and saying, "I guess I can understand where he's coming from. I wouldn't accept a handout from my Papa if it killed me. Continue." She prompted.

"R-Right, well after telling you he would be spending the weekend with Black*Star and me telling Black*Star I'd be doing the same with you, we set out for the Las Vegas airstrip on Friday. We landed in Japan early late Thursday evening, and after renting a limo, Soul

had me give the driver directions to the family compound."

"I bet your family was surprised to see you suddenly pull up in a limousine, huh?" Maka asked giving the older girl a knowing look.

"Tou-san was very surprised to say the least. When we arrived, he asked if Soul was my Meister. When I said no, he asked if I was bringing my boyfriend home to meet the family. He then laughed at my and Soul's embarrassed looks and gave me a hug." Tsubaki replied wistfully, seemingly lost in the memory.

Maka didn't interrupt as she continued, "After greeting Soul-kun, Tou-san showed us inside rambling on about what's happened since I left as he went. He asked one of my younger cousins to give Soul a tour of the Compound and after he was gone, he made the two of us tea. While it was seeping, he asked me what was wrong…I-I broke down and told him I killed Nii-san. I said even though I knew it was the right thing to do, that I still felt horrible for he was still my brother, and I still loved him, that I was sorry I had to be the one to do it. I let out all the shame and sadness that had been building up in me in a single moment."

Maka put a comforting hand on her friend's arm, which earned her a smile and a nod before Tsubaki continued, "Tou-san remained silent for a time after I'd finished, and for a moment, I briefly thought he was going to disown me for killing Nii-san. But do you know what he said?" Maka silently shook her head and Tsubaki answered, "He asked me if I felt better now that I let all that out."

Seeing the surprised look on her friend's face, caused the so-called Camilla to chuckle before saying, Yes, I imagine my face looked much like yours does now. When I asked how he knew, he just chuckled and said he knew his little girl. He then went on to say he didn't blame me for Nii-san's death. That Nii-san caused his own death through his jealousy, and that the moment he consumed a human soul, he stopped being the son he raised and became an Afreet. He thanked me for putting the Demon wearing my brothers' face to rest. He actually thanked me Maka-chan!" Tsubaki cried out sadly, causing her friend to tighten her grip on her arm in support.

"You don't have to continue if you don't want to," Maka told her, only for the older girl to shake her head and say, "No, you deserve to hear this."

Taking a moment to compose herself, Tsubaki continued, "I yelled at Tou-san then calling him a monster for talking of Nii-san so harshly, that it was all my fault, that I was now responsible for the death of two family members. Nii-san's and Kaa-san's."

Tsubaki was silent for a time before she admitted in an all but silent whisper, "My Kaa-san, she-she died while giving birth to me. I eventually figured it out when I realized the day of her death was only a scant few hours after my own birth."

"Tsubaki…" Maka began, but the raven-haired girl ignored her opting to continue instead, "That was the first time I could ever recall Tou-san becoming stern with me. He told me not to think like that, that Kaa-san wanted to meet me more than anything in the whole world, when she found out she was pregnant with me she was so happy. That no doubt she is right now giving Nii-san such a stern talking to in the afterlife for being so stupid as to get jealous of me and become an Afreet when it was his job as an older brother to protect and support his younger sister."

"I cried for the first time since Masamune's death then that day. Tou-san just held me and said it was ok to cry, to grieve, to miss Nii-san, and Kaa-san. But that it wasn't ok for me to blame myself. As I finished, he smiled at me and said that I had an amazing efriend in Soul-kun, that he must've been a really close friend to know that this was what I needed. I pondered on Tou-sans words all throughout the rest of the day until dinner, when Soul-kun showed up wearing a kimono."

At this point, Maka just had to interrupt, as the idea of Soul, her 'cool' weapon wearing a kimono was ridiculous. "Soul, Mr. I'm-so-cool-everytime-I-see-large-breasted-women-I-get- nosebleed came to dinner wearing a kimono?"

"Yes, it was red, same color as his eyes with a red and black mountain pattern near the cuffs and a white obi, he looked quite good in it, so much so that Tou-san said he could keep it as a gift. We had a party of sorts for dinner that night, seeing as I came home with a guest all of the sudden. I recall Soul saying he thought Japanese food was 'cool' but his inability to use chopsticks was definitely 'not cool.'"

This caused both girls to laugh slightly, just what was needed after the previous depressing tale. Both of them feeling lighter of heart allowed the Ninja Heiress to continue, "After dinner, Soul came to my room. He was still wearing the kimono from earlier his hair was down and a mess, he looked rather cute. He asked me if I was feeling better now after talking with Tou-san for a bit before dinner."

"He knew?!" Maka gasped surprised.

Nodding Tsubaki said, "He did, in fact, he admitted the entire reason he brought me home was because he felt I needed to talk to Tou-san and be around family after what happened to Nii-san. He wasn't wrong. As I'm sure you could imagine, I thanked him profusely for going out of his way for my sake. But he just waved it off and gave that smirk he always gave saying 'Cool guys didn't let friends stay depressed.' I hugged him after that, telling him that he really didn't have to try so hard to be cool when he already was."

Maka just nodded at that, for she too believed her Weapon tried too hard to be cool when in the minds of those around him, he already was.

"I held him at arms-length then, and we just stared into each other's eyes for a moment…when my little cousins rushed into my room playing and knocked right into Soul, making Soul fall on top of me, and for the two of us to kiss entirely on accident."

There was a pregnant pause before the scythe-meister burst out laughing. "HAHAHA! You mean you're and Souls first kiss, was entirely accidental?"

Even Tsubaki had a small smile on her face, all but hidden amidst the blush that adorned her cheeks. "It gets worse. Moments later, Tou-san walks in and sees us like that. He promptly asks Soul-kun to come with him…I don't see him again for about an hour, but when he does show up, he's looking peaky."

"Oh~, think he got the boyfriend speech from your dad?" Maka surmised.

Nodding meekly, Tsubaki said, "I believe so yes. The next day, Soul-kun talked to me privately after breakfast. He asked me if I felt anything 'odd' during our kiss."

"Odd meaning?"

"According to him, he felt his heartbeat quicken as time stopped for just a brief moment, and at that moment, all the pieces fell into place and felt right with the world."

Maka had blinked for a moment before she said, "Wow, that's…deep. Deeper than I thought Soul could be."

He has his moments." Tsubaki had affirmed before she carried on with her story, "He then gave me a choice. That kiss could either be nothing just an accident that happened between friends that could be swept under the rug and never talked about again, or, it could mean everything and we could try dating. He said he would respect my decision either way."

"You said yes, of course," Maka noted.

Looking away in embarrassment, Tsubaki nodded, adding afterward "I told him our first kiss was too brief for me to recall if I felt all that he did…but maybe, if it happened again, I could feel all he felt."

The Shadow Demon Weapon heard the Scythe-Meister gasp from right next to her, before she said, "Tsubaki, you tease! I didn't know you had it in you!"

"N-Neither did I, to be honest. Soul just…brings the f-flirt out in me I guess."

The two friends sat in companionable silence for a moment before the living ninja armory decided to ask a question, "Maka?"

"Hmm?"

She hesitated a moment before saying worriedly, "Are you really ok with me loving Soul-kun? You admitted yourself you like him too. I just wouldn't want this to ruin our friendship."

The dirty-blonde haired meister scowled slightly before saying in a serious, ominous tone, "You haven't seen him yet Tsubaki. Like I said, he's changed. Something happened that…that broke him or came close to it. He's not acting like he used to, not even close. He needs help, and…and I don't think I can help him all by myself. Whatever he saw, in that Cainhurst place, it's too much for just one person to deal with…"

Maka had paused for a moment before she said, "My Mama always said that a Sound Soul exists in a Sound Mind and a Sound Body. But from what I've seen of Soul so far, his body and mind are far from sound, and if his body and mind aren't sound…"

"His soul could be a mess too." Tsubaki finished.

Maka nodded face grim, "Exactly. I didn't use Soul Perception when he visited earlier, but I bet you if I did, I'd see something horrible. This is why I need your help. Whatever is wrong with Soul, whatever he saw and experienced, it was bad. And there's no one else, sans Soul, I trust more than you Tsubaki. So, will you help me fix our idiot?" Maka asked earnestly, holding out a hand for the Shadow Weapon to take.

Smiling serenely, Tsubaki took the proffered hand and gave it a shake before saying, "Yes, of course."

Maka nodded determination entering her eyes. She had vague inklings of a plan, she had help, ande now all she needed was information. Deciding that could wait till tomorrow when she would be released and free to begin gathering such, she asked a question of her own, "How did you know Soul thought of Blair and myself?"

"Oh, well, he told me," Tsubaki answered, surprised by the quick question.

Gaping like a fish, Maka sputtered, "And you weren't mad?"

Looking at the Meister curiously, the Demon Weapon replied, "No, why would I be?"

 _'_ _Of course, this is Tsubaki, the most forgiving person ever.'_ Maka thought to herself. "Because he was all but cheating on you with…well, me and Blair. Now I feel dirty." Maka muttered to herself.

"Don't feel sorry Maka-chan. When Soul told me he was a total mess, he felt awful. I told him it was really only natural to develop feelings towards one's Partner. As I was taught that over time as the Soul Resonance between Weapon and Meister increases so too, do certain feelings. Sometimes its friendship, other times a familial bond, and for some, it develops into affection."

"So the reason I love Soul is artificial and only due to our high Soul Resonance rate?" Maka asked becoming glum.

Tsubaki shook her head and corrected herself, "No you misunderstand. A bond between a Weapon and Meister is a powerful thing, for Soul Resonance to happen you need to trust one another, and be willing to bare your souls, to each other. That means actually understanding the person you're attempting to Resonate with. To know and accept them on a level that few others can. What you feel for Soul is very much real, and it is a byproduct of you seeing into the very depths of his being."

"Woah, Tsubaki that was…"

"Sorry, I was blathering there. I apologize Maka-chan."

"Really deep." The Meister finished in a tone filled with awed respect.

Looking sheepishly at her lap, Tsubaki let out a quiet, "Thank you."

Maka then posed a question, "Can you and Soul, Resonate?"

Hesitantly, Tsubaki nodded, "We can," She replied, "I think it is due to the bond of love we have for one another that such a thing is possible because two Demon Weapons shouldn't be capable of Soul Resonance."

Maka nodded, in a weird way, it made sense. Knowing this, however, made her just have to ask, "If he liked me, then how come he was such a jerk all the time?"

Giggling nervously, Tsubaki replied, "Well Maka-chan, despite what you may think, Soul found you to be quite unapproachable."

"Eh?! I'm a very approachable person. I'm always helping people out and-"Maka's rant was interrupted by the Ninja, who said, "No, not by your personality, but by your past. You saw all men as pigs, he was afraid if he told you how he felt, you would shoot him down and that if you did, this would hurt your Partnership, which would in turn cause the both of you to split up. Something else you don't handle well. So, he attempted to ignore his feelings, and when that didn't work he thought for sure if he could get you to hate him, they would disappear."

Maka was silently contemplative for a time. Tsubaki also said nothing, allowing her friend to sort through her thoughts at her leisure.

'It's true that I do not have the greatest opinion of men. But whose fault is that? Papas! I also don't like feeling abandoned which I guess I can lay at both Papa's and Mama's feet. She did leave me with him after all. I suppose I can see where Soul is coming from…but he's still an idiot! An idiot who's getting Maka-chopped for not being honest with me.' Maka promised herself with a firm nod.

Coming out of her one-sided metal debate, Maka asked another question, "If he liked me, then how come he only got a nosebleed around Blair?"

At this, Tsubaki sighed. For she knew her friend was grasping at straws but decided to humor her anyway, saying, "Maka-chan, I can attest that Soul is a gentleman. But at the end of the day, he is still a man. If Blair acts as…promiscuous as she did that time with the bath towel when we were all over, it's no surprise Soul constantly has a nosebleed. She's constantly shoving her chest in his face. Plus, have you ever, even once, caught them in the act of doing anything explicit?"

Maka thought back and the longer she thought, the more she realized that no, despite all the awkward situations Maka would find her weapon in with the Monster Cat, not once did she walk in on them having sex.

She was about to open her mouth to ask another question when suddenly the door was pulled open and her Papa and Mama walked in, holding grocery bags. When the two saw Tsubaki, they froze for a moment, that is until Spirit smirked, and said, "Word travels fast I guess. Not even been up a few hours and you've already got one of your friends visiting you. Just goes to show you how popular my little angel is."

Frowning, Maka said dryly, "Oh yes Papa, pretty soon, I'll be the talk of the town, the girl who went insane for a year and a half only to suddenly snap out of it. I can only imagine how popular I'll be."

This caused the Death Weapon to sulk and while he was doing that, Kami stepped forwards to greet her daughter's friend. Smiling warmly, she said, "Hello, you must be Nakatsukasa Tsubaki. Maka-chan has told me so much about you in her letters I feel like we've already met. I'm Nomikoto Kami, Maka's mother, pleased to meet you." She finished with a bow.

"You as well," Tsubaki said returning the bow.

Turning to her daughter, Kami said, "Maka-chan, we brought you some food and a clean change of clothes."

"Thanks, Mama. You can get up off the floor now Papa, by Death, you're so embarrassing." Maka huffed upon seeing her red-headed father sulking in the corner, a cloud of misery hanging over his form.

For the first time since she entered the room, Tsubaki looked at the clock. She noted the time was now close to 4 pm, and abruptly stood. "I seemed to have lost track of time. I'm sorry Maka-chan, but if I don't leave now, I'll be late for work."

"Work, you have a part-time job Tsubaki?" Maka questioned.

"Two actually. See since the quarantine no students have been allowed to go out and hunt Afreet. Which means no bounties for Kishin Eggs. So most of us have been forced to get jobs here in Death City just so we can pay rent."

"You won't need to worry about that Angel, just let Papa handle everything!" Spirit boasted.

"Not happening," Maka said dryly before waving her friend goodbye and sending the Death Weapon into another fit of depression.

* * *

Tsubaki, now wearing a set of blue coveralls and a grease smudged bandana, hurried towards **Cooter's Death Rides** , one of her two places of employment. The front door opening with a tinkling chime she noticed her employer Cooter Davenport sitting at the counter a grin on his face as he read a copy of _'Cars'_ magazine. Bowing in apology towards her employer she said, "Sorry I'm later Cooter-san."

Still smiling that 'I know something' smile, the man replied, "Don' you worry none, Sue. I can't rightly recall how many times I was late fer work…before I opened up this place that is. Say, I think I heard sum'thin near our pet project earlier, but I was busy gettin' the store ready. Would you mind goin' an givin' the place a once over? Make sure coyotes weren't in the trash or such?"

The ever helpful Demon Weapon nodded before walking off, leaving the man mentally counting down in his head, _'Five…four…tree…two…one…'_

The sound of swiftly approaching feet could be heard and seconds later, Tsubaki appeared looking distressed. Looking at him with indigo eyes half filled with tears she said, "Cooter-san, Soul's bike is missing! Someone must've stolen it!"

"Now Sue darlin' calm down. Ain't nobody stolen that sweet ride." Cooter told her assuredly.

Calming slightly, Tsubaki retorted, "But-But it's gone."

"Jus' cause it's gone don' mean it was stolen! Ha-ha, naw, the owner came by earlier and picked her up." He told his employee.

This caused the girl to smile, her eyes filled with hope, she asked, "So, Soul-kun really is back then."

"Sure as the sun rises in the morn.' Ah saw him wit' ma own two eyes." Cooter affirmed.

Smiling bigger than he'd ever seen her do, Tsubaki said to Cooter, "He's back, he really is…for a moment, I thought Maka-chan's madness just had one last hurrah on her. But if his bikes gone and you said he took it. Then that means-"

"That means you need ta' take the week off," Cooter said interrupting the girl.

Tsubaki blinked once, then twice before saying, "It does, but why Cooter-san?"

The mechanic stroked his beard for a moment before he replied, "That boy, he's in a rough way right now. Ah, reckon he could use a woman's touch. So go, go on git outta here an' make yerself fine fer yer man when he comes home. Don' worry bout yer check neither, Ah think yer needed elsewhere at the moment an not much happenin' round here right now anyway."

Tsubaki bowed in appreciation to her employer before heading out the door. Never hearing him chuckle and say, "Ah, ta be young an' in love."

* * *

The Hunter drove at a breakneck pace towards the first of his new hunting grounds. As he sped past the flat, dusty expanse that was the Mojave Desert, he could only offer a silent prayer. Hoping that, unlike in Yharnam before, this time, he would manage to save more lives than he would be forced to take and that the horrors of this nights Hunt would be few... As he sped off into the sunset he noticed a sign that read."Town of Gabb, twenty-five miles North."

 _'_ _Soon, the Hunt begins again. Kos, or some say Kosm wherever you are, have mercy. Have mercy on this poor wizened Hunter.'_ Soul thought as he pushed his bike onwards into the night and all the perils that lay in wait for him therein.

* * *

 **Chapter Length: 18,800 – Date Completed: 12/22/15**

* * *

 **AN: And Done! It took me a bit longer than I'd have liked but overall I'm satisfied with this chapter. Hopefully, you all are as well, and will give me sweet, sweet reviews stating such. As for next chap, it's all about the Hunt people! Next chap will be covering Soul's first Hunt in the Waking World, so stay tuned for an action packed chapter coming up. I would also like to thank each and every person who reviewed, it meant a lot. That said, till next time everyone, Bubbajack out, Peace!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Waking Nightmare**

 **By: Bubbajack**

 **Beta: Self-Proofread**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater or Bloodborne. They belong to Atsushi Ōkubo and From Software respectively.**

 **Ch.3: Hunter's Work.**

* * *

Soul brought _Arawn_ to a stop just outside the city limits of Gabbs. It wasn't much to look at, just a collection of sixty-eight single story houses, their paint weathered by the dust of the Mojave desert. Down the main road which he was now parked he noted a General store, a couple of diners, a few small shops, and at the far end of the street, a larger two story building that likely served as the town hall. The Hunter figured if there were any survivors at all, they would be held up in either the general store or city hall.

 _'_ _Still, it couldn't hurt to check everywhere. I found survivors' in a couple of houses in Yharnam from time to time.'_ Soul thought as he began a slow walk into town, caution in his every step, his hand resting on the hilt of the trick weapon at his hip.

He heard them long before he saw them, a trio of average sized Beasts their eyes glowing luminously in the shadows, approached him. Their jaws slavering their forms matted with blood and fur, razor sharp claws tearing gouges into the earth as they ran at him on all fours, each hoping to be the first to taste his blood. The Hunter did not even bother to draw his weapon. Instead, he reached into his duster and pulled out an Oil Urn, tossing it in the path of the oncoming beasts before simply stepping aside and watching with slight amusement as the trio of savage animals slipped and slid, on the now slick ground, before ending up a tangled heap of limbs. A tangled pile of limbs now thickly coated in flammable liquid.

Taking out his unloaded Evelyn, he fired a shot at the ground, the lone spark from the flintlock weapon drifted down, igniting the trail of oil and setting the trio of beasts alight. He watched in silence as they screamed in agony, piercing the silent night with their death cries. The first of many he knew. His crimson eyes turned to the road, knowing full well that the death knell of those three would attract their fellows. He was not wrong. From the side streets and alleyways, more than three dozen Beasts immerged. Deciding to thin their numbers, he drew and converted the Bowblade to its Greatbow form, and began firing a storm of Paleblood arrows. Each one either an Oil Urn or a Molotov Cocktail attached, forcing him to aim high. Most of his shots managed to hit the mark however, and soon, the night was filled with the screams of dying beasts, the light of flame, and the smell of burning fur and flesh. He felt a mass of Blood Echoes flow into his being, from the dead. He also noted that the six at the front of the stampede managed to escape the hellfire trap and continued their reckless charge forward.

 _'_ _Now's a good a time as any to get some practice in.'_ the snow-haired hunter thought before stabbing his bow into the dusty earth and taking out the second trick weapon he brought along with him on this hunt. Drawing the massive curved and jagged siderite blade, he initiated Quickening rushing towards the Beasts before he slammed the blade it into the bent curved wooden pole that rested on his back. Handle extending, pulling the Burial Blade, now in the form of a scythe from over his shoulder, and slashing the closest Beast from shoulder to hip sending a spray of blood out and coating his clothing in the black sanguine liquid and sending the Beast flying back from the force of the blow, its body rag dolling signifying death.

 _'_ _Wait, black?'_ The Hunter took a moment to look at the blood that dripped from the blade of his scythe, and sure enough, it was as black as crude oil, or a starless, moonless, midnight sky. Glaring at the small pool of blood which had formed beneath his weapon, The Hunter knew this could only mean one thing…

 _'_ _That witch and her child. They have something to do with all of this.'_ He thought. Before taking a vicious slash to the chest and being painfully reminded that he was in the midst of fighting for his life.

Mentally cursing himself for letting his thoughts wander, the Hunter got his head back into the fight. Holding his scythe low blade point up, he waited for one of his savage opponents to make a move. He didn't have to wait long, as one of them reared up on its hind legs forepaws extended towards the sky as if in prayer before they came crashing down to the earth. Soul rolled out of the way of the obvious attack slashing at the foul creatures' Achilles tendons upon coming out of his dodge, crippling the Beast for but a moment. With a brief reprieve, the Hunter drew his pistol and fired a shot into the back of the wounded animal's skull, ending its nightmarish existence.

Spinning the Burial Blade in his hands slightly clumsily in the hopes to emulate what he felt when his Meister wielded him in battle. Soul slashed another of the monsters that was once a man, twisted into this horrific shape by inhuman blood. His strike piercing its arm rendering it a useless lump of deadweight, but that mattered naught to the werewolf, it merely snarled in hate, its breath a mixture blood and rotting flesh, washed over the hunter as it leapt at him swinging wildly with its good clawed appendage.

Hissing in pain as the wounded creature managed to score a hit on his arm, rending flesh to the bone and spilling his mercurial blood. Blood which the beast licked off its claws like it was wine, its tongue lolling out of its mouth now, it looked at the Hunter as if he were a succulent piece of meat. Feeling the other Beasts circling around him, in an attempt to corner him, Soul rested the shaft of the Burial Blade on his shoulder before saying "Sorry fella's, dinners cancelled."

He then spun the scythe one-handed with superhuman strength, his spine twisting inhumanly, and slicing clean through the beast in front of him at the waist, and cutting the lower jaw off one, and left forearm off another. Leaping back, and popping his vertebra back into alignment, The Hunter charged the Beast that was missing an arm, his scythe's blade sparking along the ground creating a small trench before he wrenched it skywards in an upward sweep, impaling the creature in its brain from below. Ripping the blade out, he swung up and to the left, grazing the last remaining beast, before mounting the scythe on his back once more and folding the handle down. Soul then tore the blade from its hinge and stabbed it through the throat and spinal cord of the final nonhuman. The Albino watched the life fade from its eyes and felt its strength in the form of Blood Echoes flow into his being. After its body went limp, the only thing keeping it upright was his own grip on his blade, did Soul jerk his blade out of the cooling corpse.

Flicking the access blood off his blade, Soul looked around at the carnage he had wrought in but a few short minutes. Charred twisted corpses lay strewn across the main thoroughfare and the acrid stench of burning flesh, fur, and smoke filled the air. As he stared out across the wasteland he created his resolve to keep his friends out of this fight firmed. He knew as well as any Demon Weapon that when a Demon Weapon makes contact with the body of a living target, it near instantaneously renders the body into its base elements leaving only the Soul of the victim behind. A near painless death, also much less traumatizing for the weapons and Meister's than having to see blood and gore flying every which way when they won a fight. This is what allowed the Death God to train children as soldiers without fear of them becoming mentally scarred killers. For in the end, it was just children playing at war, the goal, to be the first to gain one-hundred souls. The final boss, a Witch. Thus they fought without truly feeling the full effects of slaughter.

Hunters however, were not given that luxury. With every kill, blood flew, the stench of death and offal mounted, corpses were left behind as a stark reminder of what you had just done. Then there was there was the constant dying. The first few times, especially the first time in Iosefka's Clinic, it came as a shock to him to wake up in the Dream and remember dying. To recall the feeling of torn asunder be it by blade, fang, claw, burnt beyond recognition by fire, or otherwise slain by some arcane mysticism wrought from eldritch knowledge humanity could hardly comprehend was quite a shock.

After those first few death's dying became more of a chore than a fear. After all, what was there to fear in death if it wasn't truly the end? It became a chore simply because, no matter how many mobs of mad villagers or Beasts he slew, more always appeared to take their place. Ensuring he would have to fight his way back to where he'd fallen and then continued fighting just to gain even a smidgen of headway in his quest. Eventually, even Death lost its meaning, and so too did life.

He pondered these thoughts as he walked among the dead, looting the occasional Beast Blood Pellet, or Blood Shard, he became even more adamant about keeping his loved ones out of the Hunt. It was no place for them, not unless they wish to lose a form of innocence they could never re-attain. As he walked down the main street, he noted a bright source of light coming from the left of the town hall. He knew it was more than likely a bonfire set up by half-crazed maddened Mobs who have yet to fully succumb to the Blood and become complete Beasts. He also knew they would attack him on sight. So he went down the side street winging towards the general store in hopes of finding sane survivors', and with them, information.

As he approached the building he could see faint light coming from between the cracks of the boarded up windows, feeling hopeful, he crept closer and could hear whispers coming from within the shop. They were not the mad ramblings of a blood-crazed fiend, or the mad cackling of one who had lost their wits, but the low whispered tones of two sane adults, one male, the other female. Staying crouched below their window, he listened.

"Tomas, I am worried. Our food supplies are running low, even if it is just the three of us. If something isn't done soon, it will be starvation that kills us not our maddened neighbors." This voice was feminine and soothing, like water trickling over a brook.

"Not to worry my dear, things always settle come sunrise. Plus, we heard that screaming earlier, I'm sure that means someone is here. Someone capable most likely. If we're lucky, the DWMA have arrived and will have this mess will be sorted out by sunrise." The other distinctly masculine voice sounded weary and yet held traces of hopeful optimism in his tone.

Then all of the sudden, a third voice spoke up, the voice slightly raspy and rough with age, but still holding a slight feminine tone. It said, "Daughter, Moonlit Wolf Stalker, he comes."

"Hmm, what'd she say dear?" the male voice asked, clearly perplexed.

"She said the Moonlit Wolf Stalker has arrived. Mother please, enough with this." The woman pleaded with her elder.

But from the sounds of it, the old lady was having none of it. "He is here Desert-Flower, he stands right outside our door even now, listening as we converse. Go, look for yourself if you do not believe this batty old woman." The old lady challenged.

Soul didn't know how the old woman knew, but she knew he was out there, listening. Deciding to use this situation to his benefit, he walked out to the front of the store and stood there non-threateningly. He could hear shuffling from within and could see light being blocked as a figure moved in front of the boarded up windows to look at him. Upon being seen he waved kindly, causing the figure to hastily disappear.

"Someone's out there alright. Wearing weird clothes, but he doesn't look crazy aside from that. He even waved at me."

"It is the Stalker, let him in quickly!" the old woman rasped.

Sighing 'Tomas' said, "Dear, what did your mother say? You know for the life of me I can't speak Mojave Indian."

 _'_ _Wait, the old woman was speaking in a Native American tongue this entire time…and I understood her as if she was speaking plain as day English? I'm going to chalk this up to a Great One thing, for now.'_ The Hunter thought to himself.

"She said it was the Stalker and to let him in. What do you think Tomas?"

There was silence for a time before, "I don't suppose it would hurt. He's probably the one who burnt the Beasts up the road and likely can tell us what's going on outside of our little town. 'Sides if he tries anything, I've got my dad's old twelve gauge. That should get the job done."

"Don't count on it. To the Wolf Stalker, we are less than ants. Trivial and hardly worth his notice, your thunder-stick even less so."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm lettin' him in now see?" Tomas said going to the door and seemingly moving something heavy with a grunt of effort before pulling the door open and beckoning him forward. Soul walked until he stood in the light illuminating from the shop, where the man stuck the barrel of an old double barrel shotgun out the door and said in a threatening tone as he could manage, "I'm lettin' you in here, but one false move towards me or mine, and I'll-I'll."

Suddenly, much to the man's shock, the mysterious Hunter was right next to him from where he stood several feet away, his hand forcing the gun barrel downwards. Dark green eyes filled with fear met calm bloody crimson, and for a moment, the man who had survived for months thought he was staring death in the face. Yet, the scarf and fedora-clad figure merely said, "I understand. Now, can you let me in? It's kinda dangerous to be standing around out here."

"Of course, of course, C'mon in," Tomas said, standing aside and allowing Soul to get a good look at him for the first time. He was big and burly. Built like a lumberjack with beady dark-green eyes. He had a bushy beard dark brown beard covering his lower jaw, and he was clad in a stained simple white tee-shirt, jeans, and work boots, a bandana wrapped around his head keeping long strands of equally dark-brown hair out of his face.

Stepping past the man and into the store proper, Soul noted it was lit not by electricity but by candles which seemed to be strewn everywhere. He noticed the woman next. She was tall, lithe, and had dusky skin with long black hair that was tied into a trio of braids, two on each side, one larger longer one trailing down her back, her eyes were large and doe-like, and she wore a simple outfit made of tanned leathers. The look in her eyes held both curiosity and a hint of fear.

But the last person was the one who held his gaze the longest. She was old, ancient even. Her skin the color of sandstone, and so wrinkled weathered, he was quite sure he could see a bird's eye view of the Grand Canyon on her face. Her hair was a mixture of steel gray and white, and she had numerous beads made out of polished stone and bone throughout her hair making it fall in innumerable strands. She was sitting in an old rocking chair covered almost head to toe in quilts to ward off the chill of the Nevada night. Her eyes like granite bored into his own as if trying to dissect him with her gaze alone. Finally, the old woman spoke in her raspy tone, in a dialect now that he was actually listening to it, he knew wasn't English, but something he'd never heard before. Yet, he understood her all the same, "You come at long last Wolf Stalker. I, Long-Night of the Malika Mojave Tribe, welcome you."

Nodding he replied, "Indeed wise woman. Though I am curious as to how you knew of my coming."

Smiling, the old woman replied, "My dreams told me. Dreams reveal much, do they not?"

Eyes Hardening Soul said threateningly, "Indeed they do, but one should not delve too deeply lest dream become nightmare and truth, madness."

The Mojave woman nodded, "You are wise to the ways of dreaming already Wolf Stalker. Yet, you still have much to learn I feel."

His eyes narrowing minutely, the Hunter asked, "What do you know of the ways of Dreams, old woman?"

"My people have long known of the power of Dreams. How they can allow us to speak to our ancestors and allow us to see visions of what has yet come to pass. There is a strength to be found in wisdom if one only looks hard enough."

"Such as?" The Hunter asked, genuinely curious.

"Dreams are effected by the will of the dreamer, thus why things such as 'falling up,' walking on air, and breathing like a fish in the ocean are possible. According to the most ancient of myths, there were some who could break the boundary between the Dreaming and Waking Worlds, thus bending both to their will." She said pointedly before shrugging and saying, "But that skill has long been lost to the Waking World and even now, only the most powerful and strong-willed will even notice they are dreaming much less be capable of manipulating their Dreams directly."

Soul frowned slightly. He knew what the old woman was implying, but he also knew he couldn't pull it off, not without using his blood as a medium. Mentioning more or less as much caused him to receive a slap upside the head, her hands moving so swiftly it was a blur, even to his enhanced senses.

"How-"He began only for the old granny to begin chastising him, "You are Great Hunter Spirit! Both more and less than a man! You cling too tightly to what you once were, and that is why you cannot reach your full potential." Her gaze softened as she finished, "You held no fear then, not of Death, or the Ravenous Wolves. So Wolf Stalker, what is it you fear now?"

He stared silently into her eyes for a time before he muttered, "Rejection, from those I care about."

The wise woman nodded sagely, "Ah, Hi-wa itck. Lovesickness as you would say."

"It's a bit more serious than that, Granny." The Hunter groused.

"Is it?" she asked him seriously, only to turn her head as the sound of footsteps coming from steps above the store where she and her family actually lived.

Following her gaze Soul found a bleary green-eyed fifteen-year-old girl, wearing a cotton nightgown. She was clearly Tomas' and Desert-Flower's daughter. As while she had her father's eyes, she possessed the rest of her mother's looks. Long midnight-black hair, doe-eyes, and tan dusky skin.

Looking around tiredly the girl completely missed him and asked her grandmother in English, "Nana, what's going on? I thought I heard voices?"

Patting her lap, the girl made her way into her grandmother's lap, and only when the wise old woman pointed at him did the little girl notice him.

"See him?" She said in conspiratorial tones.

The girl looked his way, and the tiredness quickly left her eyes as she stared at him in something akin to fear and awe. After a moment or two of this, she nodded silently, prompting her Grandmother to say, "He is the one I told you about. The Great Warrior Spirit who hunts wolves without fear, and who slays nightmares granting peaceful rest to both the living and the dead."

Scoffing a little, he said, "Quite the pedestal you're putting me on there Granny, I should be careful lest I fall."

A polite cough was heard from him, and he turned to face Tomas and his wife who had been silent up until now. Turning to fully face the man, he said, "I suppose you have questions?"

"Something like that. Just who are you? What did Long-Night mean when she called you Hunter of Wolves?"

Instead of answering right away, I offered my hand and said, "I'm Henaid Evans, Beast Hunter."

The man looked abashed for moment before he took the younger man's arm and pumped it briefly muttering apologetically, "Where are my manners? Tomas Stockton, my wife Desert-Flower, and my little'un over there is Dawn-Wind. This is my store, the Stockpile, I call it. Now, you said you were a Beast Hunter, am I to take it you mean you hunt those things outside?"

Nodding Soul replied, "Yeah, that's right. I just got back from clearing a town not too long ago, came back home hoping for some peace and quiet, and instead, what do I find? The entire world is being ravaged by these things. S'not fair."

Tomas paled before putting his hands on the nearby counter to steady himself and shaking his head Tomas said, "No lad, it certainly isn't. The whole world you said, so this is a global epidemic?"

Upon seeing the Hunter nod, he asked fervently, "You wouldn't happen to know anywhere safe we can go, would you? It ain't safe for us to go out most the time, and we're running low on food and other supplies."

The Hunter nodded and without hesitation said, "Yeah, Death City is safe. The Beasts aren't capable of entering the city. Something to do with the presence of the Death God I expect."

"Death City eh, but it's so far from here…" Tomas said more to himself than his guest.

Deciding to test his luck and not wanting the death of yet another child on his conscience, Soul said, "I think I can get you there pretty quick, provided you're willing to trust me a bit."

Husband and wife looked at one another for a moment, sharing a silent conversation that only those who had been a part of each other's lives for a good long time, and knew each other intimately could do. Eventually Desert-Flower nodded, and her husband did as well, before turning back to him and saying, "What exactly did you have in mind lad?"

Scratching the back of his head sheepishly, the Hunter replied, "I'll draw a rune on the floor, and it should teleport you into Death City."

"But?" Desert-Flower asked speaking to him directly for the first time.

Clearing his throat, Soul replied, "I'll need to draw it in my own blood. It's the only way I know how to get it to work." He added, his tone swiftly slightly defensive when he saw the shocked look on the two adults faces.

"Sweetheart," Tomas asked turning to his wife, to hear her opinion, only to be cut off by hoarse voice of his mother-in-law who said, "We go. We trust in the ways of the Great Warrior Spirit, and we go to the City of the Dead."

 _"_ _Mama, are you sure of this? You said you would never enter that place. That it was a place only for the blind, the wicked, and the condemned."_ Desert-Flower asked her mother in Mojave.

 _"_ _I did, and it is, but if the Wolf Hunter Spirit believes that even the Wolves fear Masauwu, then it is a safer place to be than here, where death is assured."_ She replied calmly back.

Soul watched silently as Desert-Flower closed her eyes for a moment before opening them, looking his way, and nodding before saying, "Do as you must, Wolf Stalker."

Nodding the Hunter told the family to gather up their belongings before walked a ways away and took out a throwing knife, cutting the palm of his hand, and allowing his mercury-like blood to stain the floor in the form of the forked Hunter's Mark.

"You really are a Great Spirit, just like Nana said. You must be if you bleed moonlight instead of human blood." The voice was light and airy, full of both wonder and awe.

Glancing behind him he found the little girl, Dawn-Wind he recalled, her hair tied into a ponytail for travel, a brown and white furred coat all but concealing her form as she stared at him in morbid curiosity. He stared back for a moment before raising his still bleeding palm and saying, "This, this doesn't bother you?"

Dawn-Wind shook her head innocently and replied, "Nu-uh, Nana told me all about how spirits work. How they bleed moonlight instead of blood, how they can fight a thousand men without even breaking a sweat and can fight the Wendigo, unlike ordinary people."

"Wendigo?" he questioned.

The little girl put her hands on her hips before puffing her cheeks out in annoyance and glaring at him before saying, "You know what a Wendigo is. There those things out there, the Beasts. Men who have consumed human flesh and blood and are becoming monsters."

"Ah well, I just call them Beasts," Soul said before standing up and admiring his handiwork. He turned upon hearing a rhythmic tapping behind him. He found Long-Night, clad in furs and leaning heavily on a heavily knotted cane, making her way over to him. She glanced down at the symbol for a moment before nodding and saying, "This is your symbol, Wolf Stalker?"

"The Symbol of me and all others like me." He replied looking down at the Hunter's Mark.

The wise old woman chuckled a little before saying, "But there **_are_** no others like you, Beast Stalker."

Soul just rolled his eyes and turned to the stairs where Tomas and Desert-Flower each of whom were carrying a pair of large suitcases and, in Desert-Flower's case a leather knapsack on her back. "Do you have everything you need? I doubt you'll be coming back here."

"Aye lad, we've got all the essentials. Clothes and some knick-knacks like wedding pictures and family heirlooms that we just can't leave behind. We're ready to go whenever you're ready to send us off."

Motioning towards the circle, The Hunter replied, "I can get you on your way right now-"He paused for a moment before saying to the proprietor "Do you mind if I scavenge this place for anything useful to continue the fight? I still have a fair portion of the city to clear."

Tomas nodded all too happy to help the young man who was saving his family. "Have at it lad. Take whatever you feel you need. Consider it a thank you for getting us out of this mess and to somewhere safe."

The snow-haired Hunter nodded his silent thanks only for Tomas to turn and say, "Careful out there lad, we been noticing something…odd."

Seeing the boy's curious look the shopkeeper tried to explain, "Something's out there killin' the Beasts. We seen it from time to time, an' I got a good look at it just once. It was half man, half beast. It fought like a Beast, had claws and face of a wolf, but looked like a man for the most part. It still had enough sense to wear clothes and it was killing Beasts after all."

 _'_ _Sounds like a blood-crazed Hunter, equipped with a Beast Claw and the Beast's Embrace rune of all things. This could be bad.'_ Soul thought to himself.

Grimacing from behind his scarf, the bleach-haired Hunter said, "Thanks for the warning, now let's get you out of here."

Once the family was situated in the Mark, Soul spoke again, "When you get to Death City, head to the DWMA, it should be relatively easy to spot. Once you're inside, ask to see the Shinigami and tell him Henaid sent you. Tell him I'm requesting asylum for survivors of the Plague. He should give you any help you desire."

Tomas nodded his thanks and put one arm around his wife and the other on the shoulder of his child. Dawn-Wind Soul noted was looking at him worriedly. Just before he was about to touch the rune and send them off, she said, "Be careful, please."

Smiling with his eyes, he told her, "Don't worry, you'll see me sometime tomorrow. Count on it."

"Hunt well, and may your enemies flee at your coming, Wolf Stalker," Long-Night said in the way of farewell.

He nodded silently before placing a hand on the edge of the Hunter's Mark and watching them slowly fade away. After they were gone, he gave a shrill whistle, and out from his spilled blood, came the messengers. The shriveled and deformed things waiting and willing to serve. Kneeling down till he was about eye level with the group that appeared he said, kindly, "Hey fellas, I need a couple of favors ok?"

The Messenger's straightened slightly as if coming to attention causing Soul to smirk a bit before he asked, "First, I need you to go through this store and gather anything valuable. Alcohol, nonperishable food items, steel…ya know what, just take whatever isn't nailed down, ok? And take it to the Dream."

Giving a hollow laugh, the Messengers sunk into the earth, and shortly after entire shelves full of merchandise sunk into the ground as well being dragged into the Dream by the Messengers. They had finished looting and pillaging in a couple of minutes. Then, they returned to him, waiting expectantly for his next command.

"Good job guys. Secondly, I was wondering if it's possible to set up a lantern network here. Think we can try?"

The little ghoulish creatures looked at one another before disappearing. Only to reappear moments latter holding the welcome sight of a Lamp. Sitting on the floor of the shop he touched the hexagonal lantern which hung from the hook, igniting it with a blue flame. He felt some of the tension leave his shoulders as he sat within its glow. He then reached out and touched the lamp. He felt his form fade, his stomach plummeted, and then all at once, he was back in the Hunter's Dream. He walked along the cobblestone path and into the church.

* * *

As he entered the confines of the place that had more or less been his home for the past three years, Soul felt waves of both nostalgia and grief wash over him. Nostalgia, for he recalled spending who knows how much time training with various Hunter Weapons, learning how they worked figuring out little quirks to each one, and of course, enhancing them with bloodstone. Since becoming a Hunter, reading had become a pastime of his, through necessity more than anything else. For old tomes filled with history and knowledge on Yharnam, old Hunting techniques, and even alchemy lined the walls and even floor of the Hunter's Dream. At one point he even found a book entitled **_"How to woo fair maidens."_** Which caused Gehrman to blush and mumble incoherently when he found him reading it.

Gehrman. The reason for the grief. Despite what he probably did at the Fishing Hamlet, and regardless of the fact that he knew he was releasing the First Hunter from a long torment, the albino still felt remorse. For the gruff old man despite all his flaws and shortcomings, was the closest thing Soul felt he ever had to an actual father…and he killed him…and that in turn, killed him.

Sighing before clasping at the Old Hunter Badge that hung about his neck with all the others, Soul thought, _'What would you do in my place old man?'_

Souls' thoughts we derailed when he saw shelves full of merchandise and coolers full of alcohol just sitting in the middle of the Workshop. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Soul proceeded to find a place for everything. The canned goods and copious amounts of alcohol going into the anwar where he found the Doll's hair ornament in the Waking World, the clothes being given to the Bath Messengers to hang onto, anything that could be used as a weapon, be it a hatchet to a chainsaw finding its way over to the weapons table where various Trick Weapons hung from the ceiling. The few magazines finding their place in a stack on the floor, until he decided to expand and deepen the bookcase to the point it was large enough to hold all the literature in the workshop and then some.

Satisfied, he proceeded to take several bottles of beer, gasoline and old rags mixing the volatile fluids together before stuffing a torn oil soaked rag down the mouth of beer bottles. Armed with a new batch of Molotov Cocktails' The Hunter headed towards the new gravestone in the Dream that symbolized the Waking World. It was a giant monolith, in the shape of a hexagonal spire. One glance reminded Soul of pictures he'd seen of the Washington Monument. Touching it, he felt himself return to the Waking World prepared to renew this fight.

* * *

The moment he arrived in Tomas' General Store, he felt it. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as if electrified, and the Hunter felt a slight chill in the pit of his stomach. He knew without even looking he was being watched. Calmly standing, Soul reached into his duster and pulled out a quartet of throwing knives, holding them between his knuckles for a but a moment before whipping around in a blur of motion and unleashing a steel fan of death.

The blades flew out into the darkness of the night. Soul heard three strike stone, but couldn't help but grin in grim satisfaction as a dull thunk was heard, following by a pained howl, signifying that he was indeed being watched. Drawing _Simon_ , he slowly walked out into the looming darkness. Using his senses that had been enhanced through use of both blood echoes and ascension to the status of a Great One, Soul soon found a few drops of tainted blood on the ground, next to two of his knives, both of which has been coated in a vicious poison. _'And Gehrman told me using throwing knives like that would be wasteful.'_

But Soul had no time to pat himself on the back, as he was forced to roll out of the way as his stalker attempted to land on him bodily. As the dust cleared from the failed impact, he got a good look at his attacker. Just like he thought, it was someone half-maddened by Old Blood. As Tomas had warned him and had he'd feared, this person had fashioned a Beast Claw out of the bones of a slain Scourge Beast, and a few strips of now bloodstained cloth. But it was no man that stood before him face covered in tufts of fur, an elongated muzzle full of fangs and crimson eyes full of mania and bloodthirst. No, this was clearly a woman, the frame of the beast was too slender and streamlined to be considered masculine, and the tattered remains of a bloodied wedding white that somehow still impossibly clung to the woman cinched the deal. Sticking out of her abdomen were two of his knives.

 _'_ _I hate fights like these.'_ The Hunter thought to himself even as he bent his knees ever so slightly in preparation to dodge.

What he wasn't prepared for was for the Beasthood-Embraced Hunter to Roar at him. The shockwave, unsettled his balance, just long enough for the Embraced Hunter to get the upper hand. She dashed in, swinging wildly with both mutated and handmade claws. The opening salvo of strikes bit deep into his flesh, his mercury-like blood coating her claws, the scent inciting her to attack all the more furiously. Soon, fell to the Berserker-like onslaught. And, with a gurgle-like final gasp, everything went black…

* * *

"Fuck!" Soul swore when his body reappeared within the confines of Tomas' store, his pale skin tinged blue as it was washed in the ghostly light of the lantern.

 _'_ _This is why I hate fighting Blood-Crazed Hunters! All the ferocity of a Beast, with the skill and unpredictability of a human being.'_ He thought.

It was true, of all the foes Soul faced in Yharnam few, beyond the Great Ones themselves gave him as such a hard time as the Blood-crazed Hunters They were more dangerous than the simple-minded Beasts, and always better equipped and trained than your typical mob of torch and pitchfork-wielding villagers. Thus making them oh so difficult to kill. Soul thought back to how he killed the Beast-Embraced Hunter in the Hunter's Nightmare and quickly decided if it worked once, it could work again. But before that, he had to stalk his prey, learn where she was nesting. Army crawling through the window he peaked out through one of the gaps in the boarded up windows.

He found her there, licking up the remains of his blood from the puddle he'd left behind after his body dissolved like some savage animal. Then she pulled herself up and walked, bent-backed, swinging its girth forwards nearly like an ape. Once it was two blocks down, it turned the corner, and that was when the Hunter pursued. Silent as a shadow, he dogged the were-Hunter's footsteps.

Soul soon realized all he had to fear was being discovered by this maddened Hunter. For all along the streets lay corpses of former residents Gabbs, torn to shreds by the Beast-Embraced Hunter's claws, their entrails strewn all over the road. Bodies completely drained of blood leaving them looking like little more than mummified husks with looks of horror, surprise, and pain being etched permanently on their half transformed faces. He watched silently as the Beast Embraced Hunter padded her way into the remains of an apartment complex, no doubt now just a nest for the Hunter and a tomb for those that were foolish enough to cross its path therein.

He watched as she scaled the wall with her clawed hands and feet all the way up to the balcony on the fourth floor where broken glass doors lay splayed like the shattered jaw of some wounded creature. Soul watched the broken being stalk into its nest. Now knowing where his prey laired, The Hunter quietly made his way around to the back of the complex, hoping to find a fire escape. It seemed as though fate favored him, for there, on the back end of the building a fire escape stood, forlorn and abandoned not even corpses littering the alleyway in which it sat.

Soul winced with every step he took up the ladder, as his footfalls echoed on the wrought iron. With every echoing step, he feared his cover would be blown and the element of surprise lost, yet he was proven wrong with every step he continued to take. Eventually, he found himself on the first story scaffolding, then ascended to the second floor, and the third after that. By the time he reached the fourth floor, he was wondering when his luck would give out and the karmic forces of the universe would see fit to screw him over…He was looking for an unlocked window when he heard it. The unmistakable sound of creaking and giving metal.

Glancing up sharply, he saw the bolts that connected the scaffolding to begin to snap off, one, by one. Having no time to find an entrance, soul decided to make one via blasting out a window with Evelyn, and leaping through the impromptu if glass strewn safe hole. The Albino knew he wouldn't be safe for long, however as if the sound of the gunshot hadn't drawn the Beast-Embraced Hunter, the sound of several hundred pounds of rusted steel crashing to the earth surely would. He did a rapid search of his surrounding and threw himself into the nearest door he could find…it just so happened to be a janitor's closet.

He'd just managed to get the door closed when he hear the sound of the Embraced-Hunter loping down the hall at a fast pace. The sound of snuffling could be heard then. If he had to guess, Soul suspected the Hunter was sniffing around trying to pick up the scent of any potential intruders. The snow-haired Hunter held his breath, all but certain the pounding of his heart would give him away…but, much to his surprise, the Beastly Hunter passed him by. He waited until even the echo of its steps had faded before daring to creek open the door. He glanced left and right down the hallway, seeing hide nor hair of his killer.

Letting out a breath, he carefully made his way down the corridor, ignoring the drained dead that littered the hall like so much refuse and tricking _Simon_ into its bow form as he went. Peeking around the corner, he saw her! There, in an apartment at the opposite end of the hall in which he now stood, was the Beastly Hunter, her back turned to him. Not one to waste such an opportune moment, Soul reached into his belt and pulled from it a small jar slightly fluorescent blue liquid. Pulling the cork top out, he downed the slimy, ominous liquid in a couple of gulps. His consciousness felt fuzzy for a moment, but he managed to shake it off, then stared at his hands and noted they were almost entirely translucent. Satisfied the Blue Elixir had taken effect, Soul palmed a quicksilver bullet and on catspaws, walked forwards. Pulling the Greatbow taut as he did so.

Once he felt he was close enough, he fired the makeshift arrow striking the Beastly Hunter in the back with enough force to send her to her knees. Seeing his chance, the Hunter used Quickening to appear right behind his target, he tossed Simon aside before plunging his fist into her gaping wound with as much force as he could muster. Burying himself up to his forearm into her chest, he finally managed it…he had a firm grasp on the Beastly Hunter's heart. Gripping the organ like a vice, he wrenched his arm out of the mad woman's chest, taking the heart with him as he did so. He held it in his hand for a moment, watching as it beat one last time, before lying still in his palm. The snow-haired Hunter then glanced over at the now prone form of the Beastly Huntress, who, despite having had her heart tore out tried feebly to rise off the ground for just a moment, before collapsing and falling still, a pool of oily black blood swiftly spreading from her corpse.

The silence that followed was oppressive. Yet it lasted but a moment. For the quiet was broken by the mewling warped cry of a baby. Turning on his heel, his crimson orbs widening in fear Soul noted a baby carriage sitting in the middle of the room.

 _'_ _No…no, no, no. Please no.'_ He mentally pleaded even as picked up his Bowblade and walked towards the carriage, each footfall filling him with more and more trepidation.

Sadly his mental pleas went unheeded, as within the confines of the baby carriage, clothed in bloody swaddling cloth, was a baby. It couldn't have been more than a year old, or so he guessed, but its body was already horribly misshapen by the Old Blood. Its limbs were long and gangly, far too long for its body, its fingers ending in nub-like claws. Long strands of gray fur had begun to grow from the infant's head as well as its chin. Fangs instead of baby teeth were starting to jut from its mouth, and its eyes were beginning to pale, going from brown to bestial white. It let out another shriek-like mewling cry, causing the hunter to snap out of his daze.

Soul's hands quivered as he looked at the deformed creature laying in the cradle, he then looked at the deceased Hunter and thought, _'Why, why would a Mother do this to her child?'_

Casting his gaze around the room briefly, he had his answer. Piled on a nearby counter were some bills. Walking over to them he read through a couple and quickly had his answer.

Leukemia. The baby was born terminally ill. By the looks of these bills the woman had tried everything to save her child and nothing worked… But then, one day no doubt, someone showed up in this town peddling a 'miracle cure' and she jumped at the chance to help her sickly dying infant… _and the blood_ _ **did**_ _help…until the Moon descended that is._ Soul thought to himself his heart burning with wrath at the people who would do this to innocent children for the sake of knowledge.

 _'_ _But, I? I am little better.'_ He thought as he calmly walked across the room, tricking the Greatbow back into a curved sword as he went. Standing above the infant's crib, he thought to himself as tears rolled down his face, he raised the blade above his head point facing downward… _'After all, I still kill them. Knowing full well what they once were.'_

'I'm so sorry.' He then plunged the weapon clean through the carriage. The only sound heard for several moments was that of thet blood steadily dripping off his blade. And then, the Hunter let out an inhuman howl filled with pain, hate, self-loathing, and anguish before wrenching his weapon from the cooling corpse.

"I'm sorry," He said to the dead mother and child. "I'm sorry that this was all that I could do for you…Well, there is one more thing I can do."

He proceeded to douse the apartment in oil, before tossing a couple of delayed Molotov's and jumping off the balcony. As he fell, he felt the heat from the massive makeshift funeral parlor upon his back. He landed on his feet, his knees easily absorbing the shock. Steeling himself, he made his way back to the main street and then towards the bonfire off to the side of the town hall. As he walked, he put away the Bowblade in favor of the Burial Blade all the while mentally chastising himself.

 _'_ _I thought that just because this was the Waking World, that the Hunt wouldn't be as bad. That I was prepared for the horrors that could be thrown my way.'_

Slamming the blade into the hitched handle he charged into the mob of dozens of maddened half transformed townsfolk, lopping the heads off of three unsuspecting fools as he drew the weapon from his back, their own backs turned to his facing the pyre of a crucified beast. The other's all using whatever makeshift weapon they could find, be it gardening tools to, to pieces of wood. Some still had the mental capacity to wield actual firearms. Knowing what to do from experience, Soul drew Evelyn, and fired a shot, nailing one of the sharpshooters in the temple before charging into the fray.

He hacked left and right, sending limbs and blood spray flying in a matter of seconds. Soon, his previous emotions were forgotten as he lost himself in the heat and rhythm of battle. Dodging to the left, he avoided a meat cleaver to his face from a wildly swinging madman, who was screaming how he 'wasn't wanted here!'

The Hunter retorted by stabbing the point of his scythe into his stomach before slinging the screaming fiend, into the pyre. He then used Quickening to dash into a group of six pitchfork wielding foes, which were trying to hedgehog him, poking him to death with iron tines. Dashing behind them, he swung the Burial Blade up and over his head before bringing it down to reap a bloody harvest on three of their skulls. The remaining trio turned jabbing at him all the while screaming for him to stay back. Soul responded by tossing a tri-pronged black tube straight into the eye of the spearman in the middle of the formation before walking away. Five heartbeats later, the Delayed Molotov exploded, taking all three of the madmen out in an explosive gout of flame.

He then proceeded to exhaust his stock of throwing knives poisoned or no, tossing one after another into the crowd of madmen that were attempting to swarm him. For the most part, they struck true, hitting carotid arteries, temples, hearts, and lungs. Others were only wounded taking stab wounds to their arms legs, and in one poor sot's case, his foot. Soul leapt backwards then, to avoid the few that refused to fall to his barrage of blades, smirking as moments later, an explosion of flame took out even more…for he'd dropped a timed Molotov on the ground before dodging to safety.

"A demon, a demon he is!" One of the madmen exclaimed fearfully as they watched the hunter walk calmly through the flame-charred corpses of his fellows.

"Git back!" Another hollered while waving a makeshift spear that consisted of a kitchen knife tied to a mop handle wildly.

His hand moved in a blur, and the few remaining townsfolk found themselves coated with an unknown substance. Not that they cared, all that mattered to them in their addled state was that this thing of nightmares was getting ever closer to them, so they took a step back. With every step forward he took, they withdrew at the same pace. Until finally, he leaped at them sending them scrambling backward…right into the bestial funeral pyre, their clothes soaked with oil, gleefully catching alight.

Soul watched silently as the last of the plague victims were purified by fire. He felt the strength of the dead, of the Old Blood, flow into him. Once their screams died out, he proceeded to collect whatever little bits and pieces he could find on the dead. That done, he made his way to the massive wooden doors of the town hall. He banged on them a couple of times before shouting, "Hello, anyone alive in there?"

Naught but silence answered for a moment, and then a strong, stern voice male voice replied, "Who are you?"

"I am Henaid a Hunter of Beasts. I just finished clearing the town of the infected and am searching for any survivors. Are you alone in there?"

A pause. Soul could hear faint sounds of whispering before the voice replied again, "I am not. You said you cleared out the town, does that include the madmen?"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, the Albino replied, "Yes. Though to be fair, one of the other infected had done most of the work for me. I just mopped up the rest."

The voice behind the door mused, "Yes we've seen that one, it systematically picked off the others until a large group attempted to hunt it down, and none of them came back. You've managed to kill it then?"

Resisting the urge to sigh, Soul said, "I have, and I'm fairly confident that all that are in there with you are the sole survivors left in this town, which means it's safe. So if you would please open the door, so I could see about getting you all somewhere safer than here, that would be appreciated."

Silence followed his annoyed proclamation for a moment and then, the sound of something heavy being moved aside could be heard. Seconds later, the door was cracked open, and a sky blue eye peered out at him, taking in his form. After a moment the owner of said I spoke his tone full of surprise, "Damn, your just a kid-"

He then threw the door open and looked out over the devastation the Hunter had caused, revealing his form in full. He was lanky, with long bright blonde hair, narrow ocean-blue eyes, and he had a piece of straw in his mouth. He had a stern expression and looked every bit the modern day samurai. Wearing a brown jacket over his shoulders like a cloak, beneath a white long-sleeved shirt and jeans and boots. Tied on his back with crisscrossing police tape, were two satchels filled to the brim with katana.

Upon seeing the corpses and destruction wrought by one so young, for him to be able to kill these… ** _things_** where even all of his blades and skill failed him…the Samurai felt a mixture of both respect and sadness for the young man in front of him. Respect for he was skilled enough to best a foe even he could not, and sadness for he could tell the path this boy was on was taking its toll on him, both emotionally, and mentally. It was evident merely by the way he held himself that he was being weighed down by every kill. His conscious growing ever heavier with every person he failed to save.

 _'_ _If this continues he may waver on his path, and transition from the Path of the Warrior, to the Path of the Demon.'_ The samurai thought concernedly.

"I'm not a kid you ass, I haven't been for a long time now." He groused, pulling the Sword God from his musings.

"Language, there are children present." He said sharply, jabbing a thumb behind him where indeed, several kids between the ages of eight to fourteen had gathered behind the samurai to gaze, wide-eyed at the Hunter. The Warrior then offered his hand and saying in a kinder tone, "I'm Mifune, and you are?"

Gripping the older man's wrist, Soul replied, "Henaid. Henaid Evans."

After their greeting, The Hunter looked at the children, most of whom were looking at him with a mixture of awe and fear. The oldest was a boy of who looked to be about fourteen. He had dark-brown pin-prick like eyes and a pewter colored bandana on his head to cover up his dark hair, his outfit a simple two tone blue and gray shirt along spoke, his voice tinged with suspicion, "Mifune-san, are you sure we can trust him?"

"Now, now Ryōku-kun, I realize things have been difficult for all of us lately, but Henaid-kun is clearly here to help." The Samurai chastised.

"It's just that, he looks like he's my age, and he cleared out the town, took care of all those madmen when you couldn't even scratch them, even with all your blades. It-it just doesn't seem possible." The boy said disbelievingly.

Mifune turned and bowed apologetically to the young Hunter, "I apologize for my and Ryōku-kun's rudeness, neither of us meant to insult your obvious skill when it comes to dealing with these-"

Seeing the samurai searching for the proper word, The Hunter offered, "Blood-crazed?"

The Samurai gave the Hunter a searching look, "Is that what you call them?"

A nod from the Hunter, "It is for that's what they are, those poor misguided fools."

"Mifune?" A young voice called.

Turning, the samurai said warningly, "Angela, stay back. This isn't something you need to see."

But the owner of the voice didn't listen, and a little green-haired girl garbed in the clothing of a witch that seemingly changed color at random, with an overly large witch's hat on her head in chameleon motif came forwards out of the crowd. Soul noted she was young, most likely a young teenager, probably twelve or thirteen years old, with pine green hair. Her eyes widened in shock as she looked around at the corpses, the scent of burning fur and flesh making her wretch, though nothing came up. The Samurai moved to usher the little witch back inside, but she waved him off with a gesture, before taking a moment to calm her shaken nerves. Once she had, Angela took in the sight of the Hunter and spoke, asking worriedly, "Mr. Henaid, did you do all of this?"

Looking away in shame, the Hunter replied, "Yes." Suddenly he felt something squeezing his legs. Glancing down, he found Angela hugging his kneecaps. Looking up at him with admiration filled big green eyes, the magical girl said, "Thank you for saving us, Mr. Henaid."

The snow-haired Hunter was left in a state of shock. He'd rarely been praised for telling survivors of a safe place to stay when he found them out in Yharnam and even then, nine times out of ten, something horrible happened to them anyway, so he felt guilty by association. Yet here was this girl, a witch no less, thanking him for coming to her rescue. He just didn't know what to make of it.

Still holding onto his legs, Soul noticed a look of worry filling Angela's eyes before she asked, "Mr. Henaid, did happen to find a girl called Desert-Dawn? Is she ok?"

Smiling from behind his black scarf, Soul nodded. "Yes, indeed I did. You'll be happy to know your friend and her family are safe. I sent them all to Death City, one of the only known safe places nearby right now. In fact, I should see about sending the lot of you there while we're on the subject."

"No," Mifune said sternly. "Angela is a witch as I'm sure you've noticed. Sending her to that city would be like sending her to her death. I, as her guardian, won't allow it."

Locking his crimson eyes with the samurai's blue one's Soul spoke, his tone calm and even, "None would touch her, for she would be under my protection."

Mifune held the Hunter's gaze, saying in just a calm and even a tone, "You think you can protect Angela from the Death God himself, in his own City?"

His gaze hardening like steel, the albino, replied, "Yes, yes, I can. And if it comes right down to it, I **_can_** and **_will_** kill Death himself to protect her."

The two held each other's gazes for a moment while Angela herself looked back and forth between them. Finally, Mifune looked away. Chewing on the twig in his mouth silently before sighing and saying, "Very well."

His gaze locked onto the Hunter's before he added warningly, "But if something happens to Angela or any of these other children, I'm holding you personally responsible, understood?"

The Hunter silently nodded, and the two warriors staring contest finally came to an end. Angela, however, stomped over to her self-appointed Guardian and huffing while putting her hands on her hips said, "Mifune, you be nice! Mr. Henaid saved us after all. So stop being mean to him. If he thinks a place is safe enough to send Dee-Dee, then I believe him and you should too."

Soul watched in amusement as the stern Samurai caved in an instant to the scolding of a little girl. A sheepish look crossed his face, and Mifune said in a placating submissive tone, "Yes you're right of course Angela."

The warrior then glanced behind his young charge towards the Hunter who was making whipping motions in the air with one of his hands, a smirk evident by the crinkling of his crimson eyes, causing the Sword God to scowl ever so slightly. The peace and levity of the moment was broken by a shriek that pierced the night like a dagger through the heart. Soul felt a chill run down his spine, for he knew that gut-wrenching cry could only come from one thing…a Greater Beast. Souls' head snapped up to the roof of the town hall, and there, crouching on the roof, and glaring down at them with crimson eyes, saliva dripping from its maw, was a massive Beast.

With an air of stone cold calmness, the Hunter addressed the samurai, "Mifune, get the children inside. It appears I have one more Beast yet to kill."

The Sword God needed no further prompting and began ushering the children indoors, only to be stopped when the shadow of the Beast met the ground seconds before its massive form did, blocking off their escape and kicking us a dust cloud as it pulverized the ground beneath it.

"All of you get back inside now." The Hunter's tone was the same one he addressed Mifune with earlier, he was imminently obeyed, and the children scuttled behind him like ducklings behind their mother while the swordsman stood at his shoulder, fingering his blades.

The Greater Beast reared from the dust, revealing its form. It was half again the size of the Cleric Beast, its body emaciated and skeletal, covered in long strands of hair. Its left arm was scrawnier and was absent of fur compared to its right, which by contrast was a bulked up mass of flesh covered in long scraggly strands of fur. Its head looked far too minute for its body, being a tiny thing with a stalk of deer-like antlers jutting from its skull.

Despite the danger of the situation, all soul could think while staring the Beast down was, _'It's clear which arm is its fapping arm.'_

"How do we kill it?" It was this simple question, asked by Mifune that snapped the Hunter out of his thoughts.

Looking sideways at the warrior the Hunter replied, " ** _We_** don't. You're going to back up, and then **_I'm_** going to kill it."

Turning his head to stare at the young boy with a steely blue gaze Mifune said, "You don't seriously expect to take that thing on all by yourself do you? Look at it, its massive. Let me help."

In response, Soul drew the Burial Blade from his waist before slamming it home in the twisted haft on his back. Gripping the now extended handle tightly he said, "Just watch me."

He dashed in towards the Greater Beast using Quickening wasting no time and not wanting to put any of the children behind him in any danger, he decided to end this as quickly as possible. But even as he rushed in, the samurai frowned shaking his head as he watched the ensuing fight and thinking, ' _That boy, he should be worrying about one thing, and one thing only right now…and that is the enemy in front of him.'_

Mifune watched as the Hunter narrowly avoided getting crushed by the Beasts massively oversized arm, rolling behind it, he slashed at the back of its hind legs, severing its tendons and hamstrings in a vicious spray of viscera. This caused the Beast to topple on the ground. The Hunter used this opportunity to shuffle up over its back, dragging his scythe along its flesh as he did so before hopping down from its shoulder and slamming the blade into the eye socket of the monster. He ripped the blade out with a savage cry of triumph.

Droplets of black blood flew through the air, only to freeze in place and elongate and narrow forming razor thin needles that surrounded the Hunter…a trap that went unseen as he thought the fight finished giving those under his care a triumphant grin.

"Look out!" Mifune cried out, but it came too late. No less than a dozen black tines gored the Hunter from behind, sending him to his knees, and moments later, the Beast rose to its haunches before it grasped him in its massive claw. Raising the boy to his face, the Beast began to squeeze him. Then it did it _tighter_ , and **tighter** , and **_tighter_** still. All the while, what could best be described as a savage grin, spread across the Beasts face.

And as the Beast squeezed, the others could only watch, and worse, listen, as the Hunter's bones snapped, as he screamed in agony, and as he proceeded to cough up pale silvery blood. Then, as if to pour salt into the wound, the inhuman monster tossed him away, towards the others, leaving a crater in the earth before letting out a roar of victory towards the dark night sky. Drawing two of his many blades, Mifune moved forwards expecting to find a corpse in a makeshift shallow grave.

Instead, he found the Hunter his body broken and shattered, twitching and spasming in pain as even more of the mercury-like pale substance that passed for blood in his veins continued to pool beneath him. Mifune noted that even in the wretched state he was in, he was attempting to reach inside of his duster for something.

Reaching down, Mifune gingerly lifted the flap of the coat revealing a leather pouch sewn to the inside of the duster flaps that likely held something important but now held only bits of broken glass and what appeared to be… _'Was he carrying around vials of blood?_ ' the samurai wondered.

"Blood…Vial." The boy managed to wheeze out through broken ribs and the blood in his mouth.

Turning to the wounded boy, he said, "I'm sorry, they're all broken."

Groaning in pain and frustration, the boy managed to nod towards his left boot, shaking it ever so slightly. Getting the hint, the samurai removed the boot and upturned it towards his waiting palm. A vial full of sanguine liquid fell into his waiting palm.

"Emergency supplies?" Mifune asked eyebrow raised. Somehow, though bleeding out, the albino managed a glare before jerking his head at his calf.

Understanding, the usually stoic warrior plunged the vial into the boy's leg. The action caused the crimson liquid to empty into his femoral artery, and the effect was near instantaneous. The sound of bones snapping back together could be heard, and Mifune watched in fascination as his fellow warrior's flesh quivered as his wounds seeming shrinking as they rapidly healed before his eyes. Yet he noted they didn't heal all the way, for the silver blood still flowed from said wounds, albeit slowing down to but a trickle of what it once was.

With a pain-filled groan, Soul buried the shaft of his scythe into the earth using it as a crutch so he could get to his feet. He gently shrugged off any further help from the Samurai, glaring at the Beast who now seemed to have noted he was up and about. It was leering at him, waiting for him to attack again. _'It thinks I'm weak. It wants to play with me before it kills me and eats me. Before it moves onto the others. What kind of a sick, sinister bastard was this person before he turned?'_ The Hunter wondered.

As if reading his mind, Mifune spoke, "I do believe that thing was the mayor of this town. You can see the monocle hanging from his eye over there." He said pointing to a golden chain that hung from the monster's left eye.

"He must've been a greedy little bloodsucker to have become such a monster," Soul noted.

Glaring at the beast, Mifune nodded. "Indeed he was. As I told you, one day, someone came to the town offering a 'miracle cure for all ails.' He with his wealth bought and hoarded as much of it as he could get."

"Fool." Soul spat, before flicking his eyes over to the samurai and saying, "Go back inside with your charges. I don't want them, or you, to see what happens next."

"I've seen people die before."

Shaking his head, the Hunter replied, "It's not about seeing death, it's about keeping your sanity. Now, do as I say."

Mifune looked to the boy beside him. He looked like death warmed over, but what drew him in were his eyes. His crimson eyes shined with confidence and assurance, despite that fact that his body was in such horrible condition. Giving a brief nod, the God of the Sword replied curtly while backing away, "Don't die."

"Not planning on it." Soul ground out, his eyes never leaving that of the lumbering Greater Beast before him.

The moment he felt Mifune retreat indoors, the Infant Great One cracked his neck. He knew that if he so desired, he could end the worldwide Beastly Scourge in a single night. All it would cost the world is all of its inhabitance going irrevocably insane as he unleashed the full brunt of his might upon the physical plane, causing billions of minds to shatter like glass amidst the force of a hurricane. However, just because he could not unleash his full power without severe repercussions, didn't mean he was incapable of killing something as weak as this Beast.

"I hope you enjoyed wringing me out like a wet rag asshole because now, it's my turn."

The Beast howled out a challenge, one which the Great One responded to by raising two fingers to his lips and unleashing a shrill call. From the pool of his blood, rose the head of a massive snake. It's maw open wide, it swallowed the Beast up to its waist before it snapped its jaws shut with an audible clack. The Greater Beast howled in pain and scrambled towards him crawling towards him with only its forearms as it leaked copious amounts of black blood.

He leapt forward planning to take advantage of the obvious blind spot the Beast now bore, only for spikes of void-black blood to attempt to gore him. Bubbles of the black ichor rose in the air before shaping themselves into spikes and trying to turn him into a pincushion. The Last Hunter was having none of it. He utilized the Art of Quickening to avoid the incoming barrage, before slathering the Burial Blade in his blood. Blood which promptly ignited into flame as he charged forwards, wrath blazing in his eyes as fierce as the flames on his weapon.

He drove the scythe-blade home into the Beast, again and again, heedless of its pained cries. With but a thought his left arm turned into a mass of blade tipped tentacles, which pierced the Greater Beast from five different directions. They cracked like whips launching the half-dead Beast skyward. Pushing off the ground so hard it left spider web cracks in the cement, the Last Hunter leaped to meet his prey.

At the apex of his jump, now face to face with his weakened prey, he infused his blade with the eldritch powers of the cosmos, causing the flames to turn pale blue before he unleashed a flurry of blows, twirling his weapon like a dervish about his form. His strikes hit home once from the left shoulder to left hip, twice from the left hip to the right shoulder, thrice straight across the chest from shoulder to shoulder slitting the throat, fourth from the right shoulder to the left leg, and finally fifth, from the left thigh up to the left eye.

Soul hit the ground in one piece as the Beast hung in the air, suspended by the force of his blows, a flaming blue pentacle carved onto its body. Slamming his scythe onto the ground, he snuffed out the flames and called out "Hunter Art: Beast Slayer."

The Greater Beast let out a final mournful howl before its body exploded into pieces of burning gore, and copious amounts of black blood. As he felt the blood coat his form like a macabre rain, the Hunter couldn't help but feel his blood frenzy. Feeling exhilaration flow through his form as he slew yet another Beast. He lifted his arms to the heavens basking in the thrill of survival, of a successful hunt. His exuberant joy was cut short when the distinctive sound of metal clanging on the stone was heard behind him.

Turning, he saw that from the remains of the Beast, was a cup. With mounting trepidation, he approached the object and picked it up confirming his suspicions. It was just any cup, it was a Chalice. Carved of aged bronze and covered in sigils, the most prominent being that of the Hunter's Mark, and a group of Beasts reaching for the Cosmos above.

"Damn it! You foolish Witch, Medusa Gorgon, what have you done?! What, in your hubris, have you unearthed?" he asked himself before he pocketed the Chalice.

He then tiredly made his way back to the shelter where Mifune and the remaining survivors waited. He pounded on the door, and it was promptly flung open by the samurai who looked him over with a critical eye before speaking, "It's done then?"

"It is." He affirmed, "I shall create a way to send you to Death City shortly. I suggest you have your charges make ready."

Nodding silently, the samurai made his way back into the shelter while the Hunter went to work making a rather large Hunter's Mark out of his blood.

"Is there something you want to ask me, little miss?" Soul asked without turning around as he focused on his task.

From behind him, Angela spoke, "Mr. Henaid, am I really going to be safe in Death City?"

"Unless Death wishes find out if after living through strange eons even he can die, then yes, you'll be fine."

"You have an odd way of looking at things, Mr. Henaid…But maybe one has to be a little weird, to threaten Death, with death." Angela let out a little giggle despite their morbid conversation.

"You're a strange little twelve-year-old."

Angela made an affronted noise. "I'm fifteen!"

The hunter sounded skeptical at that, turning around he asked, "Really?"

Hands on her hips, Angela nodded, "Just because I'm short, doesn't mean I'm a kid y'know!"

 _'_ _Short? She's 4'10 tops, and that's with shoes on.'_ Still, seeing he'd insulted her, he bowed at the waist hold one arm against his chest with the other out at his side, "My apologies milady."

Angela huffed and crossed her arms. Giving him a sideways glance, she let out a long suffering sigh and said, "It's not your fault. I blame it on the robe, always covering up the goods. I mean, it's bad enough Mifune is so overprotective, but I'm always wearing this thing! I'm a teenage girl, I have **needs** you know?"

 _'_ _This is_ _ **not**_ _the kind of conversation I want to have with this girl! Especially with that Mifune just outside hearing range.'_

So thinking, the Hunter backpedaled quickly, "So, uh, you ready to go?"

Seeing the strange look on his face, Angela realized that she might've said a bit too much to a random stranger. "Sorry about that Mr. Henaid. It's just things have been so stressful here lately with the Beasts, that Mifune has been acting stricter than usual and I guess I needed an outlet…again, sorry."

Waving her apology off, he told her, "Don't worry about it. In any case, the sigil is ready."

"That's good to hear."

Angela turned pale as a sheet to find Mifune behind her chewing away at his twig. "M-Mifune! How long have you been standing there?!"

"Too long I think." Before turning to the Hunter and saying, "I came to inform you that we are ready when you are."

"Uh right. Just get everyone to stand on the mark, and I'll send you off." Soul told him trying to not make this any more awkward than it already was.

The Samurai nodded and headed back inside to gather up his remaining charges. The moment he was gone, Angela, wailed out, "Oh no! I can't believe he heard all that he probably hates me now!"

Walking over and putting a hand on her shoulder he said comfortingly, "I highly doubt that he could ever hate you."

"R-really? What makes you say that?" Angela muttered out as she wiped away unshed tears.

Shifting his gaze to the blood red moon that was slowly sinking below the horizon, he told her his thoughts, "He looks at you like a father would his daughter. He's worried about you, but for an entirely different reason. Like any good parent, he's worried his about his little girl getting hurt, either emotionally or physically, by some unknown guy."

He locked his gaze with hers again and finished, "He doesn't want to let you go, knowing you could get hurt. But he knows, for your sake; that he has to. That it's a part of you growing up."

Angela looked at him silently for a moment, wide-eyed before going, "WOW, you're so insightful Mr. Henaid!"

Upon seeing him chuckle she asked what was so funny only for him to reply, "You have no idea how ironic that statement really is."

It was at that moment that Mifune and the others arrived. Angela skipped over to her guardian's side and took his hand in hers smiling up at him. The samurai was confused but silently accepted the gesture none the less. Just before he sent them off, she looked up at him and said, "Everything is going to be ok Mifune. Things may be different now, and that's a little scary, but we'll be ok."

The Samurai looked down at the young girl, no young lady, that was his charge and gave her a small smile and a nod.

The Hunter himself was glad he was able to help so many, and on a more personal level, helped a young girl and her guardian come to terms with the fact she was growing up. It was a welcome distraction to the dark and harrowing thoughts that plagued his mind that now came back with a vengeance.

 _'_ _What did that witch do? How did she come across more Chalices? How many more are there? How more Great Ones will I need to slay to end this Hunt?'_

These were the questions that circled his mind, and at the moment he had an answer for none of them. Deciding to shelf these useless thoughts, for now, he called forth the Messengers from the Dream and gave them his most difficult request yet.

"Guys, I want this place warded with Incense. It would be pointless to clear a place out if more Beasts can just move in after I'm gone. Can you do this for me?"

Giving off a joyous guff, the Little Ones set off setting up pots full of burning incense all along the street hanging burners from windows and lampposts, and even tossing handfuls into the pyre the Madmen had created earlier. Soon, the cloying flowery scent filled the air. This scent, so prevalent in the Dream, put him at ease.

Giving the assembled Bastards of Loran a smile, as they waited at his feet for his next command, he said to them, "Good job guys, now before we head home for the night, one more thing. I want you to go throughout the town and take anything of value back to the Dream."

Giving him a salute, the Little Ones scurried off. Allowing them to revel as babes, as was their wont, the weary Hunter made his way back to his bike. All throughout his drive home, his mind was adrift. Plagued by thoughts of Witches, Chalices, and the possible Horrors he has yet to face.

* * *

 **Chapter Length: 13,255 words Number of Pages: 23 Date Completed: 1/22/17**

* * *

 **AN: I'M BACK! Yeah, I know, it's been over a year since I updated this. But one does not simply update a Bloodborne fic. No, one must first feel the frenzy of inspiration in their blood. Be blessed by hearing the voices of the Great One known as Muse whispering in their head urging them on. Then, finally one must look to the Cosmos of YouTube for constant inspiration. Ai Inspiration! Ai Muse! Ai YouTube!**

 **Lol, seriously, though, having all three of those things really does help in writing this. I would also like to say that, if you haven't played the game yet, you shouldn't be reading this or ANY OTHER Bloodborne fic. Bloodborne is a game that needs to be experienced firsthand before all others. By reading fan fiction, you are depriving yourself of such an experience.**

 **That said, this fic is different than most, as it takes place post-game. Our Hunter has ascended to that of a Great One, meaning we'll be exploring different themes in this narrative. Most important among them is the difference between being "Human" and having "Humanity". Those are two completely different things in my mind. One could even argue it is a theme in Bloodborne itself, considering the lengths the Choir and Mensis went to achieve their goals, and in doing so, sacrificing their humanity while remaining human.**

 **Yet for our hero the opposite is true. He is no longer human, yet doesn't want to give up on his humanity. Can he cling to it, and still protect what he hold dear, however? That is the question. Alright, I think I'm done be a philosophical and mysterious dick for one day. I hope you all enjoyed and I'll see you next chap! Bubbajack out! Peace!**


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